


Far From Any Road

by LeeAtwater



Category: Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Biting, Bondage, Double Penetration, F/M, Mind Games, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slavery, Suicidal Thoughts, Torture, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-06-01
Packaged: 2018-01-26 03:32:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 12
Words: 34,310
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1673129
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeeAtwater/pseuds/LeeAtwater
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the Legion takes out an independent Vegas, Courier Six and her friends are left scrambling for their lives in a mad dash across the Mojave. But there's a hellhound on their trail, intent on proving that there are some things worse than death.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_This was definitely not the way things were supposed to happen_ , thought Courier Six, dodging stray bullets as she climbed the fence and escaped Vegas for what would probably be the last time.

With her ragtag team of companions, the allegiance of many friends she'd met on her journey, and let's not forget that gigantic Securitron army, she'd beaten back both the Legion and the NCR at Hoover Dam. After some discussion, the NCR brass decided that there was no point in throwing more money and manpower into the endless desert hellhole, and they'd come to reach an amicable peace with the citizens of New Vegas, continuing to operate the Dam but abandoning their plans to annex the region. The Legion … well, that had been a much less amicable and less peaceful solution. Boone's bullet had found the cracks between Legate Lanius's armor and ripped his throat to pieces. The Securitron army took care of the rest of the Fort, although rumor had it that most of the bigwigs, and maybe even the man himself, had escaped the destruction. Six hoped that wasn't the case. Caesar had been nothing but charming to her, but she would never forget the fires rising over Nipton when she first encountered the Legion, nor the sobs from the slaves that she heard at night during her brief stay in the Fort. _Some monsters should never be allowed to walk free_.

Whatever the fate of its leaders, the Legion had retreated back to Arizona to lick their wounds and do whatever it was they did when they weren't out conquering and enslaving. And Courier Six and her friends returned to the Strip as the triumphant saviors of New Vegas. Free drinks at all the casinos, all-new furnishings for their suite at the Lucky 38 – hell, The King even wrote a song about her. Most importantly, the citizens of the Mojave were allowed to live in peace and freedom.

For, oh, about six months. Then everything went to hell. Again.

Like cockroaches trickling through cracks in the walls after the lights go out, the Legion seeped back into the desert. This time, there were no enormous armies, no forts, nothing big enough to attract the attention of the Securitrons. Just little things. A mysterious fire brought down the Vikki and Vance Casino in Primm and everyone inside. Officially, the Sheriff determined it was an electrical fire, but no one could quite explain how all the doors were chained shut from the outside. A few NCR officials disappeared from their remaining embassies and camps and were found strung up on telephone poles, left in remote locations for the crows to devour. Scouting patrols in Legion armor were spotted in the mountains. The citizen's militias, with their Securitron counterparts, kept a closer eye than usual on the abandoned Fort and Cottonwood Cove, ever vigilant, but saw nothing. They were looking in the wrong direction the whole time.

Six would always remember the night the lights went out in Vegas. She wasn't sure what sort of tech weapon they'd gotten their hands on, but it was almost certainly the work of that bastard Vulpes Inculta, who'd always been so much more at ease with technology than the other legionaries. Veronica said she'd heard of such a thing while working for the Brotherhood, but had never laid eyes on it herself. In a moment, everything with a power button in the Strip was suddenly turned to "off." The casino lights went dark. The Securitrons instantly deactivated. And while Six and her friends scrambled in the dark for their weapons, still half-asleep and more than a little drunk, the legionaries poured into New Vegas by the thousands.

They must have made a deal with the Boomers, since they'd been able to lead an entire army past the abandoned Camp Guardian and then through the mountains past Nellis without being blown to shreds. While his companions frantically packed what weaponry and food they could carry, Arcade watched from the balcony, horrified, as the Legion tore through the Strip. Gomorrah was set alight. The gamblers streaming out of the casinos were forced to their knees and butchered if they showed any resistance. By the time Six grabbed him and advised him that they were getting the hell out of there _right now,_ the Legion had started pulling drunks and junkies from the Followers hospital at the Old Mormon Fort and shooting them in the head.

The elevators were a no-go without power, so the Courier and her small group ran down endless flights of stairs, only to stop short on the second floor when they heard shouts from the lobby. "Remember, take them alive if you can!" _Fuck,_ thought Six, _they couldn't concentrate on slaughtering everyone else for a while while we get out of here?_ And the _take them alive_ part meant that someone had given specific orders to find them, which could mean nothing good. She didn't know what would happen to them if they got caught, but she could hazard a pretty good guess that it involved a large amount of pain followed by an extended period of death. Lanius may not have been well-liked in the Legion, but a group of people that would crucify an entire town to "teach a lesson" was probably disinclined to give second chances. Or third ones.

Good thing they had a secret weapon, then. The Legion soldiers scattered in shock as Lily suddenly shimmered into view behind them. "Not very nice, dearies!" she roared, picking up their terrified decanus and swinging him into three of his men. Six and her companions took advantage of the opportunity and dashed down the stairs, taking sporadic shots at the few remaining legionaries as they made their way out the back door. Lily caught up with them as they neared the perimeter wall, none the worse for wear, and helped boost them over to freedom. Then they were off, running like bats out of hell to the west, away from the massacre in their backyard.

A week after leaving New Vegas, Arcade disappeared. He'd been off picking flowers for food and potions near Red Rock and never came back. Raul and Cass went out looking for him when he didn't return by nightfall, and found nothing but a pair of broken glasses and a fire gecko, crudely crucified on a pair of sticks lashed together with twine. The message was clear. Despite Boone's vocal desire to stay in the mountains and hunt down whoever was responsible, they packed up and hurriedly moved on.

Six's original plan had been to go to Jacobstown and find safety among the mutants while formulating a way to strike back. That dream had swiftly died when Lily returned from her reconnaissance mission and reported, through a veil of tears, smoke rising over the town and red flags with the bull emblem hanging on the gates. The bodies of her fellows were dumped outside like so much refuse. Six figured that it made sense – Jacobstown was infinitely defensible and the Legion could never resist wiping out the "subhuman" mutants and ghouls – but it still stung.

The new plan, if you could call it that, was to wander vaguely to the southwest, sticking to the mountains, until they got to NCR territory. The Courier was no friend to the NCR, but she knew that they would never tolerate a Legion-controlled Vegas so close to their own territory. They'd be rolling in, full-strength, to kick Caesar's ass back to Flagstaff, so all they had to do was stay alive until they reached safety. Or so she hoped, although a treacherous voice in her head whispered that the NCR might just fortify their own borders and the Dam, then write off the rest of the Mojave as a loss. Zion, maybe? Back to the Burned Man and his tribes? They could offer more protection than anywhere else, although Six wasn't too keen on a life among the red rocks. And she doubted Cass and Boone would make particularly good Mormons. Oh, and the whole 'surrounded by the Legion' thing was about fifty times worse up there.

So southwest it was. The next incident happened while they were camping near Goodsprings, which had been a beautiful little town once, as far as Wasteland towns went, the closest thing the Courier had to a hometown. Goodsprings was well outside of the Legion's new territory, but no sooner had they entered the city when they saw the crosses. Sunny Smiles, Doc Mitchell, Trudy, freshly strung up left to rot in the sun. Whichever legionaries were following them (or ahead of them, now?) had wanted to send a message to the town that had first sheltered the Courier, and all the crucifixions were giving Six a nasty sense of exactly who was pulling the strings behind this particular operation.

Raul was on first watch that night, sitting on a folding chair in the bushes with his pistol as Cass, Boone and Lily slept and Six sobbed into Veronica's shoulder in their makeshift tent. Everyone heard Cass's scream when she went to switch out with Raul and found his decapitated corpse sprawled out on the ground. His gun was fully loaded; he'd never been able to even get off a shot. His head was neatly placed on the folding chair, eyes stitched shut with cactus needles.

A huge argument ensued the next day, after they'd buried Raul's body and quickly found safety in the abandoned Lone Wolf Radio camper. Someone was following them, picking them off, and they had killed Raul but left the rest of them alone; they could have easily slaughtered the entire team while they slept, but decided against it for some reason. The thought rose unbidden in Six's mind. _Someone likes to play with their food_. She suddenly felt nauseated.

If they were being shadowed by the Legion, they would never get close to the NCR border before whatever trap was waiting for them was sprung. Their destination was clear, and whoever was following them had to know the territory well. Six hated to say it, but it was time to split up. Predictably, the others disagreed.

"The _hell_ I'm going to let you run off back towards that mess," spat Cass. "We've been in this together since the beginning. We've fought the Legion before and kicked their ass. What makes it different this time?"

"This time we don't have an army, Cass," Six sighed.

"But we're so damned close to the border! Just another day or two -"

"Listen! We are _not going to be allowed_ over the border. Trust me! I doubt we'll get much past Primm. My suspicion is that there's one or two with us in the mountains, and then a larger group waiting ..." Six studied the map on her Pip-Boy, which Veronica had finally been able to reactivate after the pulse shut down all the electronics, and jabbed her finger at a location. "Here, probably in one of the Nipton Road gas stations. I've been there, there are lots of supplies and room to hide, and my guess is that the Mojave Outpost is barricaded all to hell right now. They're not going to come out for a disturbance down the road, even if it is the Legion."

"If we think they're probably in there, why don't we just roll a grenade inside?" suggested Veronica.

"Because then we get a bullet in the back of our heads from Mister Shadow who's been following us."

"So, what, we're just going to split up and wander off?" asked Boone. "We'll be dead within two days."

"No. I'm willing to bet that whoever killed Raul and took Arcade is after me, rather than one of you guys – no offense, folks, but the Legion's got all the reason in the world to be pissed off at me. Second choice is Boone, who's killed a lot of their guys. So my idea is this. Cass and Vero, you need to get the hell out of Dodge."

"You think we can't handle ourselves?" sneered Cass.

"I _know_ you can handle yourselves, all right?" Six rubbed her temples. "Veronica, I've watched you put a power fist through a Fiend's chest and come out with a heart that was so fucking undamaged that Arcade wanted to use it for transplants. And Cass, you once tossed a guy out of a tenth floor window for grabbing your ass. But I've been to the Fort, and let me tell you, everything you've heard about how the Legion treats women is one hundred percent correct. One thousand percent correct, although I know if Arcade was here he'd be advising me that you can never be more than a hundred percent correct, so ..." The exhaustion was getting to Six. Arcade. God, she hoped he'd just been captured. Or was that worse?

"Lily, up for a little stealth mission?" The nightkin practically lit up with joy. "Cass and Vero, change your clothing, clean up a bit, and head into Primm. Get a ride with a trader. The caravans are probably still running – that's the one faction that no one wants to piss off. You can probably get to the Mojave Outpost and then head west along the Long 15 without anyone recognizing you. Lily can follow beside you in stealth, just in case. She scared the hell out of those Legion back in Vegas, but I suspect anyone ahead will probably know that we've got a nightkin with us. Get to the Hub first, then Shady Sands, if you can. I'll meet you there ..." she faltered. "When I get there."

Six reached into her pack and fished out the Mark of Caesar Inculta had given her on the Strip, so long ago. _Why the hell did I let him walk away? Why did I even go to the Fort? Admittedly I ended up with a robot army from that excursion, but if I'd been willing to let that little shit Benny go, I could have stayed out of all this. Let the NCR and the Legion fight it out at the Dam on their own, go back to Goodsprings, start a dance hall or something._

"If you run into any Legion, see if this still does something. I doubt I'll get away with using it, given that I'm number one on their current enemies list. But if they stop you and don't recognize you, it could be good for a free pass. Come up with a solid story. When you get to the NCR, sound the alarm and raise as much hell as possible. I'm sure they know what's going on here but they may not know the full extent."

"Why isn't Boone coming with us?" asked Veronica.

Six sighed. "Because if I send Boone with you, he'll argue and bitch and moan the entire way, and then as soon as you cross the border into safety he's going to immediately ditch you to come back and kill as many Legion as possible until they take him out. Sounds about right, Boone?"

Boone halfway smiled. "That was my thought."

"So Boone, if you want to kill something, come with me. I'm going to stop this hiding in the mountains shit and head straight east, past the NCR prison. Whoever's been following us will have to expose himself to some degree, and I'm willing to bet there's no Legion up around there, just because there's nothing of interest. Boone and I can handle the Powder Gangers. After that, we can stick to the hills and head north to Hidden Valley. We know how to get in, and that's just about the one place in the world I'm absolutely sure the Legion can't get to. Not without help, anyway."

"And who's to say that our little follower isn't going to take us out the moment we split up?" asked Cass acidly.

"We can't do anything about that, unless we decide that we're just going to stop where we are and figure out where our Legion friends are hiding, which I _highly advise against_ for the following reason. _"_ Six grabbed a hat, balanced it on the end of a broomstick, and stuck it out the door. A bullet ricocheted against the metal exterior of the trailer, causing everyone to flinch. She almost had to give their pursuer credit for his sense of showmanship. He had to have seen it was just a very poor decoy, but he obligingly took the shot anyway.

"Point taken," Cass conceded.

"I'm counting on them following me and Boone rather than you guys. If they don't … if they don't …" she struggled to get the words out. "Just don't let them take you. So get some sleep and we'll split up at nightfall. No point in posting a watch since they know exactly where we are, but I doubt I'll be sleeping anyway, so I'll keep an eye out. From _inside_ the trailer, please."

Two hours later, Veronica woke from a sound sleep to the sound of Boone hauling the Courier back inside the trailer. He deposited her on the floor and immediately began yelling at her.

"What the hell are you doing? Idiot! You know they're out there!"

"Of course I know they're out there, Boone! Did you think I was running up the mountain yelling 'Come and get me, cocksuckers!' for fun? They're after _me!_ You guys can get away!"

"I'm not going to let you get killed," Boone said, his voice low. "Or worse."

 _Ah. There it is._ "Planning on shooting me if I get caught?" she hissed. "Seriously, Boone? I'm not going to end up a slave. I'm pretty sure they have something much more inventive planned for me. And since they're _stupid_ enough to want to take me alive, which you would know since they shouted it when they were in the casino, that gives me the opportunity to at least take out a few of the fuckers before I get crucified or torn apart by wild dogs or whatever-the-fuck else Caesar's brilliant mind is fixated on today."

"I just -"

"I know! Listen, will you just trust me? We need to get to Hidden Valley, and we need to do it together, and I can't do that if I have to sleep with one eye open!"

"Then stop trying to throw yourself onto their knives, if we're _in this together_ ," he spat. "Speaking of sleep, you planning on resting anytime soon?"

"Yeah, this atmosphere is incredibly conductive to relaxation," Six said with a smirk. "The soothing white noise of our impending deaths just lulls me to sleep."

"I'm not going to bed if you're just going to run out there again."

"Then be my guest. Stay awake."

Night fell. Cass rubbed dirt into her red hair to make it less distinctive, while Veronica changed into a long blue dress that was utterly inappropriate for the Wasteland. When Boone and Six stared at her, she shrugged. "Well? If whoever's stalking us is going to attack us, our armor probably isn't going to do a hell of a lot against a bullet to the head. Might as well look pretty for my funeral."

"So morbid. I'm going to miss you, Vero." Six hugged the Brotherhood scribe tightly.

"You better be there for a drink in Shady Sands, bitch, or I'm going to come marching right into Flagstaff demanding to see you," Cass said.

"I'm going to miss you … slightly less, Cass."

"Fuck off," the red-headed girl said, with a small smile on her face.

"I talked to Lily and she's going to meet you in Primm. She's been hanging out down there anyway. A big purple monster isn't exactly inconspicuous in a trailer."

As they stepped outside their makeshift camp for the last time, Six made sure she trailed slightly behind. Turning to the mountain ridge, she made a theatrical gesture and bowed. She almost thought she saw a shadow shifting behind a bush. Without hesitating, she pulled her pistol and fired directly into the bush. A scurrying sound made her realize her target had been a rabbit. Still, she was certain their pursuer was nearby. _Come on, motherfucker. Come on if you think you're hard enough. Let's see how much of a badass you are without your Legion buddies._

Unfortunately, if the hidden follower was the man that Six was increasingly convinced it was, then the answer was "pretty badass."

Several days later, Six and Boone were still barely on speaking terms as they pressed northeast. Six preferred it that way. He was still seething about her attempt to abandon them after Goodsprings, and she felt similarly about his unspoken desire to kill her rather than let her get captured. Intellectually, she knew that he was probably in the right on that one, but something about her wouldn't let her give in, wouldn't let her die without seeing her enemies face to face.

At least two trained warriors sneaking through the brush made a lot less noise than two trained warriors, one drunk, one person wearing the heaviest armor known to man, and a supermutant. They'd used Stealth-Boys when they had to be out in the open for extended periods, but now that they'd reached the hills on the other side of the prison, they were able to move openly and at a faster pace. Six estimated that they'd reach Hidden Valley within a day. But they had yet to draw their pursuer out of the shadows, which left her little peace of mind. Somehow Six knew that they had about as much chance of reaching the Brotherhood bunker as they did the NCR. She found that this didn't bother her as much as she thought it would. She had been living on borrowed time since the Strip, and her only goals now were to get her friends to safety and to take down as many Legion as she could before she died.

Their initial plan was to press through without stopping, but when Six collapsed from exhaustion shortly after sunset on the second day, Boone insisted that they get some rest. He hunted and roasted some geckos for them while she napped in the entryway of a cave for a few hours. Then after dinner, she took the second watch while Boone curled up behind a rock about twenty feet away. Even while sleeping, he hated spending time in caves and other positions where his beloved sniper rifle would be useless. Not that it would do him any good; Boone could stay awake for incredible periods of time, but when he finally fell asleep, he was dead to the world for at least six hours.

She was sitting at the mouth of the cave, her pistol on her lap, scanning the horizon for any threats, when she suddenly felt a prickling sensation at the back of her neck. She grabbed for her pistol and opened her mouth to scream when a strong hand covered her mouth and gripped her jaw, holding it shut, while her pistol was yanked out of her grasp. _In the cave, behind her_. Just like when the Strip was attacked, she had been looking the wrong way the whole time.

"Got you," hissed Vulpes Inculta, directly in her ear.


	2. Chapter 2

Six bit down on his hand instantly, drawing blood. He barely flinched, instead moving his hand to her throat, squeezing it so tightly that she could barely breathe, much less scream. His other hand raised her confiscated pistol and pointed it ahead and to the left of her, straight at Boone. She froze.

"So this is what's going to happen," he whispered. "You're going to get up, _very quietly_ , put your hands behind your back, and turn and face the wall. When I tap your shoulder, turn around, walk towards the north, and keep walking until I tell you to stop. No talking, no questions. I'd hate for you to make any noise that would awaken your NCR dog. He looks so peaceful when he's sleeping, doesn't he? The price on all your heads requires them to still be attached to your bodies, but I can't drag you both through the desert, so I'm afraid he'd have to go."

He must have heard the hitch in her breathing, because she felt him smirk against her ear. "Don't worry. I'm sure he'll come after you. In fact, I'm counting on it. That hero complex makes him so very predictable. Now stand up, with your hands where I can see them _."_

He jerked her to her feet, finally releasing her throat, and pushed her towards the canyon wall. Seeking that she had no other choice, she put her hands behind her back, and he tied them tightly together with a length of thick rope. He roughly patted her down for weapons, finding two knives and the gun in her ankle holster. _Missed the switchblade in my bra, though, fucker._ When Inculta stepped away, she closed her eyes and held her breath, waiting for a gunshot. The only sound she heard was occasional rustling, and the sloshing of their water canteens. He must be raiding their supplies. A tap on her shoulder, followed by a hard shove, indicated that it was time for them to go. "By the way, if you try to run, I'll shoot out your kneecaps before coming back for him."

Six stumbled ahead of him, refusing to look back, afraid that one last glance at Boone would result in his death. She tried to feel a sense of triumph. Boone was safe, at least until he woke up and realized that she'd gone. Lily, Cass and Vero were on their way to the NCR. Raul … her heart hurt to think about Raul, but two hundred years was a long life, and it seemed like he'd lived it well. As for Arcade, she knew the first question she'd be asking the moment their forced march came to an end. _They're safe. I won. And my grand prize is an agonizing death at Caesar's hands, followed by yet another unmarked grave._ _Go team me._

Six slowed her pace as soon as they got out of Boone's hearing range. She could hear Inculta right behind her, and he'd give her the occasional push or tap with the barrel of her gun if he thought she wasn't moving fast enough. She tried to remember everything she could about him. _Head of the Frumentarii. Master spy. Tribal, born somewhere up in Utah. Dark hair, blue eyes, pale skin. Handsome enough if you didn't know exactly what you were looking at. Stupid dog head hat, notice he left that behind this time. Smartest guy in the Legion, except for the man himself, and even then it's a close call._ Six wracked her brain for anything she could use against him, any gossip she'd heard from the NCR or on the Strip. _He walked right up to me on the Strip to give me the Mark of Caesar_ , _like it was the most natural place in the world for him to be. Likes: crucifixions, Caesar, Rippers, books (surprisingly), intellectual discussions (even more surprisingly.) Dislikes: Me, the NCR, anything remotely fun, me, the Burned Man, all of my friends, me. This is not looking promising._

How about stories? He was responsible for Nipton, which she'd never forget. She almost had to thank him for that. Caesar's honeyed words about the corruption and overreach of the NCR and his plans for a new society based on order and self-discipline might have struck a chord in her. But every time she looked at the cold blue eyes of the man standing next to Caesar and remembered his bored drawl as he gave her the Legion's message, the crucified and screaming residents of Nipton no more than background decoration to him, she was snapped back to Earth. No helping the Legion. Never.

What else, what else. Inculta was behind the irradiation of Camp Searchlight. Points for inventiveness, at least. She was about ninety percent sure he was also the mastermind of that damned electronic pulse that had taken out her Securitrons. That would be her second question when they stopped, she decided. In that case, he'd be the top man on her personal shit list, not that it really mattered in this instance.

Something else. Something darker. She focused on the memory of his voice, and suddenly it came back to her. As her veins turned to ice, she stopped in her tracks, earning a shove forward from her captor. After her visit to the Fort, but before Hoover Dam, she'd overheard a group of NCR troops talking about an incident. They'd found a ranger's body on a hill near Camp Guardian. She'd been missing since a Legion raid two months ago on a ranger station, but she'd only been dead a day or so. From the condition of her body, she'd suffered immensely before dying. From the recordings left at the base of the cross, nicely packaged and wrapped with a bow, there was no doubt that Vulpes Inculta had tortured her for information before finally slitting her throat. She hadn't heard anything more about the content of the recordings, thank God, but she had heard that the NCR had drastically reduced the presence of female rangers within striking distance of the Legion. And two months was way too long to torture someone _just_ for information.

So. Spy, murderer, torturer, war criminal, probable sadist, probable rapist, definite asshole. Just another good ol' leader of Caesar's Legion. _I should have joined up when I had the opportunity. What fun we could have had. Wonder if I'd be someone's personal slave by now, or just passed around the camp for kicks?_

She was lost in her thoughts when she felt a hand fist in her hair, jerking her head backwards. "Stop walking," Inculta ordered. "Turn around."

They were in a small ravine, with plenty of shade from the shrubs and cacti growing higher up the walls. It was a perfect place to make camp for the day, or bury a body. Six took a deep breath, tried to wipe her expression of all emotion, and turned to face her fears.

The moment Six turned around, Inculta backhanded her into the dirt, hard enough that she bit into her cheek. She struggled to as much of an upright position as she could with her hands bound behind her and glared at him, spitting out blood. So much for remaining emotionless.

"What the hell was that for?"

"Biting my hand back at the camp. And I'd advise you to watch your tongue. I am not a fan of cursing from profligates."

 _Wow, three whole sentences before he used the word "profligate." That must be a new Legion record._ She seethed internally for a few moments, trying to regain her composure. "Can I speak now?"

"If you must," he drawled. "Keep your questions limited." She noticed that he was wearing regular merc armor, instead of anything that would identify him as Legion. Probably a smart idea for someone who'd been trailing her across half of the Wasteland. The Legion's gear was much better suited for battle than for stealth.

"Did you take Arcade?"

"Yes."

"Why? Is he alive? Is he okay?" she asked frantically.

Inculta chuckled. "Your concern for your friends is quite touching. Yes, the good Dr. Gannon is alive and well. There are high-ranking legionaries that require some specialized medical attention, and since most of the doctors of the Followers chose to die with their patients, our options were restricted. I would have preferred someone other than a deviant who has been working against us for years, but Caesar seems to have taken a shine to him. Of course, his status could change, depending on how well you behave."

Ah, using her friends' safety to ensure her compliance. Six was familiar with that tactic, and she remained silent, refusing to give him a reaction. Inculta pulled a blanket and some water bottles from his pack, spread out the blanket, and sat down. "And to anticipate your next question, I killed the ghoul too. You know our feelings on ghouls and mutants."

 _But slavery and rape are totally okay, right?_ Six bit back the snark that was on the tip of her tongue and stared straight ahead. He motioned for her to sit on the blanket, which she did, uncomfortably scooting over from where she had been lying on the ground. He held a bottle of water to her lips, and she allowed him to pour some into her mouth. Dehydration left little room for pride.

"Did you knock out all the electronics?" She knew it didn't matter at this point, but she had to know if her suspicions were correct.

"Good guess," Inculta said begrudgingly. "After the disaster at the Dam, I managed to convince Caesar that we should be integrating certain kinds of modern technology, rather than destroying it like a bunch of savages. Med-X and Stimpaks, for example, have drastically reduced our death rates. Why have legionaries dying from minor injuries that any dissolute with a handful of caps could recover from in a matter of hours? We liberated some Brotherhood of Steel technology from their bunker in the Mojave." Six tried not to flinch. _Guess that plan wouldn't have gone so well after all._ "And we found that. It took us a while to figure out exactly what it was meant to do, and how to operate it, but it certainly was effective, was it not?"

She looked off into the distance. He grabbed her jaw and turned her to face him. "When I ask you a question, profligate, I expect an answer."

"Yes, it was," she said quietly.

"Yes, _what?"_ His grip tightened painfully. What did he want her to say? Oh, right. The Legion and their views on women.

She'd be damned if she would ever call any legionary "master", so he'd have to settle for less. "Yes, _sir,"_ she said, voice dripping with acid. He stared at her for a few moments, eyes burning into hers, before he released her. She went to rub her bruised jaw, only to remember that her hands were tied. He held up some more water to her mouth for her to drink. She considered spitting it back in his face, but she figured that such a small gesture of defiance probably wasn't worth whatever he would retaliate with. _God, I hate him, I hate him, I hate him._

They sat in silence for several minutes, Six looking up at the sky, trying to remember where all the constellations would be that night. Inculta was the one who broke the silence. "Were you surprised to see I was the one chasing you?"

"No. I mean, no, _sir_ ," she replied. "The crucifixions were a bit of a giveaway. Not exactly subtle."

"Duly noted." She stole a glance at him and saw he was almost smiling, leaning back on his elbows. "I shall take that into consideration for the future. More water?" She nodded and drank deep.

She had a sudden flashback to a document that she'd seen while scavenging an abandoned hotel for supplies. There had been a comment card, asking the guests to rate the hotel service on a scale of one to ten, with empty lines where they could suggest any improvements. She imagined handing one of those to Inculta. _How satisfied have you been with the service during your kidnapping today? Do you have any suggestions as to how your captivity could be improved in the future? Thank you for choosing the Legion for your stay, please leave the card on the spike next to the severed head on your way to the cross._ God, she was so tired. She couldn't help a slight giggle. He looked at her and his expression darkened.

"I fail to see the amusement in this situation," he hissed. "At least from your end. If it were up to me, I'd be finding plenty of amusement in you myself." And there it was again, the threat, prickling her skin and turning her blood cold. "Sadly, Caesar has demanded that you be brought to him as unharmed and … untouched as possible. Incidentally, I noticed you haven't asked any questions about your fate."

"I assumed that either you wouldn't tell me and would hold the uncertainty over my head, or you'd be unable to resist telling me in graphic detail to scare me, so there was no point in asking," she said, noticing his eyes narrow. " _Sir." Okay, I may have just stepped over the line on this one._ He clenched his jaw, but rather than hitting her, he sighed and tried to relax back onto the blanket, using his supply pack as a pillow.

"You are the most infuriating woman I have ever had the displeasure to meet, let alone drag across the desert like a petulant child," he groused. "Are you trying to piss me off on purpose? Hoping that I'll lose control and kill you quickly? I overheard your little argument with that sniper who follows you around like a lost puppy before you sent the women away. _Throwing yourself on their knives,_ indeed."

 _Well, if we're putting everything out in the open now..._ Normally, she'd be more cautious with her words, but she was tired of playing games, and her head was swimming from exhaustion and hunger. Something in her snapped. "I bet that NCR ranger wished she would have done the same. _Sir._ "

That did it. He pushed her onto her back, arms trapped painfully behind her. He was up on his knees now, glowering over her. "First off, you can stop calling me 'sir' until you can find a way to change the inflection to sound less like you're saying 'asshole' each time."

"Can I just say that instead?" she spat.

He smirked down at her. "Not in public, at least, although I'm sure you'll be calling me worse names in the near future." As if to emphasize his point, he moved to straddle her prone body and leaned forward, face inches from hers. She tried to scurry backwards, but he grabbed her leg and pulled her flat to the ground below him, trapping her legs between his. "Just Vulpes will do for now, if you will. And your name is? I feel that formal introductions are appropriate at this point."

"Six," she breathed.

He rolled his eyes. "That's not a name, it's a number." He pulled a very nasty-looking combat knife from his belt and examined the edge in the moonlight. "Want to give me an honest answer?"

"I don't remember my name," she gasped, panic rising to the surface. "I don't remember much from before I was shot. The paper said I was Courier Six, so that's what I am."

Seemingly satisfied, he leaned back on his knees, still straddling her with the knife. She would have given anything, _anything_ to see Boone's shadow in the distance, lining up a shot. She didn't even care who it was aimed at. His voice brought her snapping back to reality. "But I digress. So you know about the NCR bitch, hmm? I see my reputation precedes me. Good. That will save us some time. How did you hear about the ranger?" he asked conversationally.

She was finding it increasingly hard to breathe, with her hands digging into her back and Vulpes far too close to her for comfort. She took in several ragged gasps before he slid the knife to her throat. "Remember what I said about answering questions?"

"I overheard some gossip," she whispered, afraid to cut her own throat by moving her head.

"And what exactly did you hear?" he asked, voice no longer cool and disinterested, now dripping with fire and venom and something else that she didn't care to focus on. Six regretted bringing up this topic. Things had escalated way too quickly. She had figured that mentioning his past misdeeds would make him angry, violent, maybe even embarrassed. From the hardness digging into her thigh, it would seem to have had the opposite effect.

She must have taken too long to answer his question. This time, the knife sliced into the skin of her throat, spilling crimson trails down her neck and collarbone, dripping blood onto the ground beneath them. Six hissed in pain and writhed beneath Vulpes, desperate to get away from the blade. He moaned and ground his hips into hers. After a moment, he pulled the knife away from her neck, replacing it with his lips. He sucked at the cut for a moment before moving his mouth to the junction of her neck and shoulder and biting down hard, hard enough to rip through the flesh and spill more blood. Six bit back a scream at the last second, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. It would leave a scar, and she distantly wondered if she'd need a rabies shot. Maybe she could ask Arcade, if she ever saw him again. Everything was getting fuzzy.

Vulpes pulled his bloody mouth from her neck and she gasped for air. "Focus," he intoned, although she wasn't sure if he was talking to her or to himself. Better to play it safe.

"I didn't hear any details," she said, looking over his shoulder, anywhere but at his smug expression. "Just that she was tortured, for months, and then killed, and that you left recordings. And that's why they kept female rangers away from your territory."

"Did you hear the recordings?" He rested his face against hers, an obscene parody of an embrace. She shivered, and felt his cock stiffen further against her.

"No." Her vision was blurring. She couldn't have lost that much blood, could she?

"Do you want to know the details?" She could feel him smirk against her cheek.

" _No."_ They were probably worse than the ones she was imagining, and that was saying a lot. She tried to pull herself together. "Please don't ..." Her train of thought drifted off again.

He finally sat back on his knees, wiping her blood from his mouth. "Feeling a little sleepy?" he smiled. "How about something to drink?"The pieces in her scattered mind clicked together.

"You drugged my water," she breathed.

"Well, yours, and that sniper mongrel's too. Just a little Med-X to keep him off of our backs and to keep you manageable. Life is so much easier now that we can use a few chems here and there. We have a caravan coming down that road to pick us up in a couple of hours, and it just wouldn't do for you to get any stupid ideas like jumping to your death into a canyon or trying to push me into a nest of radscorpions." She felt him lift himself off her and begin tying her feet together. She tried to struggle, but her bones were made of gelatin. "I've got to get Caesar's prize trophy to the Strip in one piece. I'd advise you to stop fighting it and get some rest. It might be the last nap you ever have."

She laughed harshly. "What makes you think that I'm going to want to close my eyes for a second around you?"

He was fading in and out, disappearing from her vision, but his voice was as clear as ever. "Darling Six, you're safe in your sleep. When I hurt you, I assure you that you'll be awake for every second."

 

***

 

He glanced over at the bound body of the infamous Courier, finally knocked unconscious from the drugs, and wiped the remaining blood from his face. He lit the signal fire and sat back down on the blanket to wait for the caravan.

Well. That had been satisfying.

Caesar wouldn't be too happy about the bite mark, but after chasing her and her irritating friends through the desert for weeks, he figured he deserved to leave at least a few scars. He should have taken care of her personally back at the Lucky 38, but he had been so focused on overseeing the destruction of the profligate nest of Gomorrah that he'd decided to send that moron Scorpius instead. Scorpius had managed to get himself and his men killed without inflicting a single casualty, and the Courier had escaped into the desert with her merry band of misfits.

After receiving that disappointing news, Caesar had ordered Vulpes to track down and take care of the Courier himself. He had initially seen it as a punishment, and he had even felt resentful at being given such an insignificant mission. After all, wasn't it his work that took down the Securitrons and made their great victory possible? But after a few days, he had to admit that his Lord knew him better than he knew himself. Some time alone, with a singular purpose, had been just what he needed to clear his head after taking the Strip. And the Courier was simply too dangerous to be allowed to escape. That would be just what they needed. The hero of Vegas, out there scheming and allying tribes to thwart their plans, just like she had at the Dam.

His prey had been amusing enough to toy with. He'd savored the look on her face after Goodsprings, when she'd realized exactly what she was dealing with and what the stakes were. How desperate she was as they approached the NCR border, trying to shed her friends before they met the same fate as that abhorrent ghoul. How she didn't break even after she was captured, how she threw the incident with the girl from the NCR in his face when she should rightly have been frightened to death. He'd managed to scare her at the end, though. The terror in her eyes right before she passed out was something he'd be replaying in his fantasies for quite a long time.

Speaking of … Vulpes looked over at her. Six – ridiculous name, really – was an attractive woman, a fact that he could appreciate now that she wasn't spitting venom at him with every word. Auburn hair tied back in a bun, dark green eyes, fair skin, more padding to her breasts and hips than the average starving Wastelander. It was unfortunate that she hadn't joined them when Caesar had extended his generous offer; she would have been a formidable ally, and a desirable slave after they had taken the Dam. Vulpes felt himself harden slightly at the thought. He wouldn't touch her, though. He'd given her his word, and raping unconscious women held no allure for him.

It wasn't nearly as fun if he couldn't hear them scream.


	3. Chapter 3

Six drifted in and out of consciousness for hours. When she came back to her senses, to a degree, she assessed her surroundings. As far as she could tell in the dark, she was bound hand and foot in a caravan cart heading to the Strip. A rope behind her back tied her hands and feet together, preventing her from lashing out. She felt a rough leather collar around her throat, attached to a length of chain, the end of which Vulpes was passing back and forth between his hands. She closed her eyes again, wishing that this had all been some sort of horrifying stress nightmare, and that she'd be soon waking up in the Lucky 38 to go drinking with Cass or scoping out the local ladies with Vero. God, she hoped they had made it across the border. She was certain Cass could handle almost anything the Legion could dish out, but Veronica was a scribe at heart, and a Brotherhood of Steel member who had only been with women would be an irresistible target for some of the more sadistic legionaries. For example, the one sitting less than five feet from her, studying her eyes.

Her mouth was parched, but she tried to hold off on drinking the poisoned water for as long as possible. When Vulpes motioned at her with the bottle of water for the third time, she nodded slightly, expecting him to allow her to sip it as she did before. Instead, he forced her jaw open, pinched her nose, and poured the water past her lips. She gasped and choked, but most of the liquid still made it into her mouth. He pressed her jaw shut and gently stroked her throat, causing her to shiver and swallow involuntarily. He smiled, and she didn't like the intentions she saw there. "Another lesson that may come in handy in the future, profligate."

Six opened her mouth to retort, but she was fading fast. She was out for hours this time. The next time she awoke, the sun was up, the caravan had come to a stop, and Vulpes was pulling her to the ground. The caravan driver lay dead with a bullet in his head. She found she couldn't feel too sorry for him. _See what happens when you agree to take people as cargo?_

Her captor yanked her to her feet. She noticed they had stopped on the outskirts of Freeside. His voice had regained its sense of bored detachment. "We'll be heading to the old NCR embassy. The leaders are staying in the abandoned hotel rooms, but most of the troops have had some difficulty acclimating, so we've set up tents in Freeside and the Strip. The southern and western portions of the city have proven significantly more difficult to control, so a strong military presence is still required. The NCR's base is the best fortified, and the most appropriate for our command structure."

"Do I really require a full briefing on the situation before being killed?"

He shrugged noncommittally. "I have an offer for you. If you put on this hood and walk quietly, the citizens of Freeside won't have to see their beloved savior dragged through the streets like a dog. No one will know it was you. If you fight me, however, I will make sure that everyone sees your humiliation and knows exactly what awaits you. What is your answer?"

This, at least, was easy. "I won't fight, but I don't want to wear the hood. I might be tied up and on your leash, but I'm not crying and I'm not beaten. Cut my feet loose and let me walk. I promise I won't make trouble."

He considered for a moment, then drew his knife and cut the bonds of her feet. "That seems like a reasonable compromise. Very well. Go. If you try to run, consider my previous comment involving the loss of a kneecap on your part still in effect."

Vulpes had expected her to stare at the ground and shuffle like a ghoul to her impending doom. Instead, she marched towards the Strip like she was the one conquering it, head held high, nodding to her acquaintances who stopped to watch. She even smiled and paused to talk to a few little boys playing some sort of stick game with a gecko's dead body. He rolled his eyes and jerked on the chain, pulling her towards the gate to the Strip. This wasn't a pleasure stroll.

A quick check from the reprogrammed security system and the gates to the Strip opened for them. Six's eyes widened. She'd been expecting it to be bad, but never in her wildest dreams had she thought it would be like this. It was like she had gone to hell while still alive.

Gomorrah was ashes. The Lucky 38, where so many memories and _the rest of her goddamn gear_ had resided, was still smoldering. The Tops and the Ultra-Luxe were intact, but their neon signs had been disconnected, and the bodies of the previous owners swung from the balconies. Legion tents and flags littered every empty space. Crucifixes lined the streets, and as she watched, legionaries were pulling down bloated carcasses to nail new screaming bodies into their place. They seemed to be stringing up the NCR troops now, presumably having tortured them for information in the intervening days. From the looks on their faces, death had been a mercy too long denied them. She quickly looked away and hoped that her own end would be swifter.

From behind her, Vulpes tangled his hand in her hair and jerked her head back up. "Look at them. Meet their eyes. Do you see the magnitude of what you're responsible for?"

"I didn't want any of this," she protested.

"But yet, by refusing the NCR's protection and infuriating the Legion, you let this happen." He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close, the other hand still forcing her to look at the dying people. "Let this be yet another lesson, although I doubt it's one you'll have the opportunity to put into practice. _Pick a side._ Standing for freedom and justice and noble ideals, counting on the goodness of people's hearts to win them over, will get you nowhere. It is better to be feared than to be loved."

For the first time in this ordeal, she felt hot tears stinging at the corners of her eyes, and willed herself not to let him see her cry. She kept looking at the crosses – _her fault, her fault_ – but something that he'd said had sparked a welcome distraction. Anything to keep her treacherous thoughts at bay.

"That's some very specific wording. I knew that you were positively Machiavellian, but I was unaware you'd read the book itself."

She felt him smile into her neck. "Required for all military strategists, Courier. I appreciate the reminder, though. It is about time to reread that particular masterpiece. But I think we've been delayed long enough. You have an appointment with Caesar, and he does not enjoy being kept waiting."

She summoned every last reserve of her confidence, blinked back her tears, and pursed her lips. "I'm looking forward to it."

"Oh, and I'd advise you to keep an eye on your tongue while you're speaking with my Lord. His patience for insolence from profligate whores is significantly less than mine."

He led her to the old NCR embassy, the guards parting to let them through, and opened the door for her in a parody of chivalry. Six took one last look around the Strip before Vulpes jerked on her chain, sending her stumbling towards the entryway. She swallowed and stepped through.

Vulpes pulled her through several rooms of guards, most of whom leered at her presence. They came to a nearly empty locker room, where he cut the ropes on her hands, freeing them for the first time since the cave. She wanted to hit him, but she barely had any feeling left in her fingers. She settled for rubbing the painful rope burns and glaring at him.

"Don't think that you're going to walk in there like you own the place," he growled. Heading to a beat-up locker by the door, he pulled out two sets of manacles and a mess of tangled chains. She took a step backwards.

"No way. No way in hell am I going in there chained up."

He chuckled nastily. "Do you think you still get to make your own choices? It will be much easier if you get over that misconception before you meet Caesar."

Vulpes advanced on her, still holding the end of the chain attached to her neck, winding it around his fist, pulling her in. Six thought fast, and suddenly the answer came to her. _What exactly do I have to lose?_

She allowed him one sharp yank on the chain as her right hand dove into her armor, pulling the concealed switchblade free. As she stumbled into his chest, she slashed blindly with all her strength. He let out a strangled gasp and his grip on her weakened. Blood seeped through his leather merc armor, dripping down his chest and left arm. Pulling herself away, Six adjusted her hold on the knife, preparing for a second strike, when he grabbed her wrist and dragged her to him, twisting her arm painfully behind her back and crushing her hand until she dropped the blade.

"Foolish mistake, profligate," he hissed into her ear. He looped the chain in his hand around her neck one more time and tightened it. As she struggled to breathe, she felt him snap the manacles around her wrists and ankles. She tried to suck in enough air to scream when he began cutting away her armor with his own knife, taking no care not to cut her skin as well. When she was only dressed in a thin shirt and her undershorts, he loosened his grip on her chains and pulled her into a small enclave cut out of the wall, which she suddenly realized was some sort of shower. She yelped when he backhanded her to the floor and turned on the ice-cold water.

Six breathed frantically, beginning to hyperventilate when Vulpes stripped off his own armor, clearly intent on joining her. She backed as far into the corner as possible, wrapping her chained arms around her legs. She tried not to look at his naked form as he stepped into the shower. He didn't seemed bothered by the cold water, but then again, a legionary probably wouldn't be accustomed to hot showers. _Warm water is a gateway to sin, bubble bath the poison of the dissolute! Here's your ice water and a rock to scrub yourself with._

He hauled her up by her chains and pinned her to the wall. She closed her eyes. "Don't get any ideas, whore," he warned. "This is merely for convenience. We can't go in to meet Caesar covered in my blood. It reflects poorly on me." She almost laughed in his face. Her, getting ideas? He let her drop to the floor and finished cleaning himself off, while she sat there curled into a ball, eyes closed as tightly as possible. The filth of her weeks in the desert slid off of her body, the dirt and sweat making her recent cuts sting. She was pretty sure at least two of her fingers on the hand that had held the knife were broken. Well, that was two less bones that they'd be able to break if they tortured her. When they tortured her. After seeing the wounds on the NCR troops being crucified, she had no doubt that a quick death was not in store for her.

A jerk on her hair indicated that it was time for her to get up. Vulpes was dressed in his full Legion armor and looked utterly unruffled by their fight. He shoved a towel at her. "Dry yourself off or I'll do it for you."

"Don't I get clothes?" she asked.

"You're lucky I'm letting you keep your shirt and underthings on and not dragging you in there naked." He smiled in a way that indicated that he wouldn't have been opposed to that idea at all. "You lost your clothing privileges when you pulled that idiotic move with the knife. Now dry yourself; you don't want to present yourself to Caesar looking like a drowned rat."

Seeing no benefit in refusing, she dried her body with the rough towel and ran her fingers through her hair, doing her best to look … well, not presentable, but at least less pathetic than she felt. Vulpes tied her arms together behind her back and linked the shackles on her legs with a slightly longer length of chain, allowing her room to shuffle forward, but not to walk or run. He picked up the chain attached to her collar and wrapped it around his hand, indicating with a yank that she should follow him. No more plans, no more delays. Time to get this over with.

It was jarring to see Caesar lounging behind a beat-up wooden desk, looking for all the world like a tired supervisor rather than an emperor, but she guessed they'd had to make do with the facilities they had. His presence dominated the small room. At least she wouldn't have to face a large audience while they decided her punishment. As she hobbled into the center of the room, facing the desk, she saw the bearded Lucius standing to Caesar's left side, a few other members of the Praetorian Guard spread out behind them, and in the right corner –

"Arcade!" she cried. He looked relatively uninjured, but the pain she saw when she met his eyes caused her to flinch. She recognized that look. He was feeling sorry for her. This did not bode well.

Growling, Vulpes jerked hard on her chains. " _Kneel,"_ he hissed. She did as he asked, keeping her eyes on Caesar the whole time. Vulpes briefly knelt beside her and bent his head in supplication. "Ave, my Lord. The Courier, as requested. I apologize for the delay."

"Ave. Rise, Vulpes, and join us." Caesar smiled at his lieutenant, who dusted himself off before joining his master at his right side. "Did she give you any trouble?"

"Every step of the way," Vulpes said, smirking. _Thanks for the glowing report, asshole. Maybe I shouldn't have stabbed you right before this meeting._

"I expected no less." Caesar stood up and put his hands on his desk. "Courier, do you know why you're here today?"

"Yes." She caught Vulpes glaring at her. "I mean, yes, sir." She fought the urge to stick out her tongue at him. _See, I can say sir politely. I just chose not to do it for you._

"And why is that?"

"I defied your orders to destroy the robots, killed your men, stopped you at the dam, made a peace treaty with the NCR, and my friend shot Legate Lanius, sir," she said, with a small measure of pride. She felt like she was being reprimanded by a schoolteacher for breaking the rules.

"Let's just group it all in as 'being a general pain in my ass', shall we?" he sighed. "Do you know what the usual punishment is for disloyalty under my rule?"

What was this, Twenty Questions? "Crucifixion, sir."

"Would you like that?" _The hell?_

"Depends on my other options, sir," she said, confused. Lucius quietly chuckled.

Caesar stepped from behind his desk and begun pacing in front of her. "My initial plan was to personally whip you in the center of the Strip, then crucify you," he said casually. "But after weeks of seeing the NCR get that treatment, the idea has lost some of its allure. Then Lucius suggested that we break your arms and legs and toss you to the legionaries to use for their pleasure." She turned her stare on Lucius, mentally adding his name to the top of the People to Kill If I Get Free list. "That seems befitting of the magnitude of your crimes."

 _Shit shit fuck shit fuck why didn't I let Boone kill me?_ "However, there are a few mitigating factors. Your doctor here, who has done wonders for me personally, has repeatedly requested a measure of mercy for you and your other friends." She looked at Arcade and gave him a weak smile, which he did not return.

"And of course, it was your very act of defiance against the NCR that allowed us to conquer the Strip. Had you allowed them to annex the territory as they desired, we would likely have never been able to operate in this area again. I thank you for that." She remembered Vulpes' words on the Strip. _You let this happen._

Caesar stopped his pacing and turned to his subordinates. "So clearly, I haven't yet decided what to do with this particular degenerate. Lucius, what is your opinion?"

"My Lord makes several good points," the bearded legionary said. "I agree with your original plan. Scourging followed by crucifixion. A quick death, for all she has done for us." Six moved Lucius' name down a few spots on the murder list.

 _And hey, time to hear from Number One on that list!_ "Vulpes, you're the one who's had to deal with her recently. You know how I value your counsel. What would you have us do with the girl?" She saw him smile and had a feeling she knew what was coming.

"Respectfully, a quick end is far too merciful for an insolent whore such as her, my Lord." She turned her death glare up to eleven. "Even after being captured, she refused to submit to Caesar's will. Not thirty minutes ago she attempted to kill me in this very building." Caesar and Lucius looked surprised. _Okay, in retrospect, that was a big mistake._ "I suggest that we spend some time teaching her the value of obedience."

"And I'm sure that you'd be more than willing to give lessons in that particular virtue," the dictator laughed.

"Only if my Lord wills it." _You bastard, I will tear your eyes out of your head and play pool with them. I will feed your entrails to crows. I'll cut off your cock and make you choke on it._ Vulpes gestured to her, scowling at him from her knees. "You see? Even now she shows no submission."

Caesar turned to her. "And you, Courier. What's your opinion? What is it that you want? Think carefully before you answer."

 _Huh?_ Her mind swam. _What should I say? Freedom? That's a pointless wish. Revenge? Same. Protection for my friends? Unlikely._

She swallowed the acid that had risen in her throat. "Nothing you would be willing to give, sir."

He met her eyes and actually smiled. "Try me. Be inventive. You may impress me yet."

 _A warm bath and a soft bed?_ She pictured boiling water and a bed with chains on the headboard, and quashed that idea. Thoughts raced through her brain, blurring and narrowing to a single point of hatred. Suddenly she knew the right answer. She jerked her head at Vulpes Inculta. "I want to fight _him_ in the arena. Sir."


	4. Chapter 4

Caesar raised his eyebrows. She could tell he was, in fact, impressed. Lucius had half a smile on his face. Vulpes looked shocked for a second, then quickly settled himself back into his usual smug expression.

"What say you, Inculta?" Caesar asked. "Do you accept this profligate's challenge? You're under no requirement to say yes, by the way. We could just kill her and be done with this. I'm beginning to think we should have done that from the start. This is becoming a chore."

Vulpes smiled broadly. "Oh, I'd be happy to use the arena to teach her her first lesson, my Lord. I accept the challenge."

The atmosphere in the room had become more relaxed, as if she and Vulpes had somehow obtained equilibrium. Caesar nodded to his Praetorians. "Prepare the arena. And the whipping post, as well. I still demand my pound of flesh. Twenty lashes should be sufficient."

Six groaned inwardly as the guards left. After twenty lashes with a Legion whip, her chances of beating Vulpes in the arena would go from minimal to nearly nonexistent. Still, it was a shot, and a way for her to die quickly and with honor. Caesar turned to her again. "Courier, what will the stakes be on your side?"

"I'm sorry, sir," she said. "What do you mean?"

"The stakes, my dear." He winked at her. "What do you want to happen if you win? The arena isn't just a fight to the death." _It isn't? Shit. Might as well shoot for the moon._

"I would like my freedom, and that of my friends," she said without hesitation. "I would like for us to be escorted safely to the NCR border. I promise that we will never return, sir." That was definitely true. If she had the chance to get out of here alive, she'd head so far west that Cass and Vero would have to pull her out of the ocean to keep her from drowning. She'd never even seen the ocean, but if it would get her farther away from the Legion, she'd swim to China.

"And your stake, Vulpes? If you win?"

He didn't even pretend to think about it. "Her, as my personal slave."

 _That tears it._ "Oh, fuck you!" she spat, as Caesar and Lucius looked on amusedly and Arcade slowly put his head in his hands. "Motherfucker!"

"See her disrespect?" Vulpes said, gloating at her loss of composure.

"Silence, both of you," Caesar sighed. "The terms are set. Courier, should you force a surrender, knock unconscious or kill your opponent, I pledge on all the Gods that you and whichever of your friends you happen to round up are guaranteed passage out of the Mojave and into the New California Republic. As long as you stay away from my territory, you will be safe. Frankly, if I never hear from you or that cursed sniper again, it will be too soon. Are we agreed?"

"Yes, sir." She schooled her face to look grateful.

"Inculta, killing her would make your stake moot, so let's just say if you force a surrender, by unconsciousness or less pleasant means, you get what you want."

"With pleasure, my Lord," he said, bowing low and casting a smirk at Six, still chained on her knees. She growled low at him.

"I tire of this bickering," Caesar sighed, rubbing his temples. "Lucius, take her to the whipping post. And Vulpes? If you win, _do_ try to make her last longer than your usual pets, will you?"

***

"Twenty." Six bit into her tongue as Caesar's knotted whip came down for the last time. He may not have been as young as he once was, but the dictator still had some formidable arm strength. She was sure her back was a bloody mess. The only thing keeping her from screaming in pain as she was scourged, bound hand and foot to a pole in Freeside, was her desire to show no weakness to her enemies. Or to her friends. Many of the citizens of Freeside who she'd helped along her way were in attendance. A public whipping, followed by an arena battle, was considered entertainment for the whole family in the Legion's Vegas.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a surprise lash of the whip. Caesar crouched down to whisper in her ear. "That's an extra one, for calling the head of my Frumentarii a motherfucker in my presence. Twenty-one's supposed to be a lucky number, right? _Bonam fortunam_ in the arena."

Legionaries stepped forward to cut her down. She stumbled immediately upon being set on her feet. God, she could barely walk. This was going to be a bloodbath. As they escorted her to an abandoned house that served as a prep room for the makeshift arena, she looked out at the horizon, then chided herself for hoping to see Boone _. No one is coming to save me._

"I'll take it from here," said a gentle, familiar voice. The legionaries dropped her into a chair and left. She found herself finally looking at a friendly face.

"Arcade!" she gasped raggedly. "Are you okay?"

He laughed hollowly. "Am _I_ okay? I'm fine. You're the one who needs some help here. Get that shirt off and let me bandage you up. Quickly, we don't have much time."

She hissed as she pulled off the remnants of her blood-soaked undershirt, and heard Arcade's sharp intake of breath. _It must be pretty bad if he's gasping_ , she thought. _At least I know he's not staring at my chest. That's a welcome change._

"Did the others make it?" the doctor asked, pouring something hot and painful across her back. When she was finished cursing the air blue, she said, "As far as I know, everyone except Raul is okay. Inculta killed him and then we split up. Veronica, Cass and Lily were headed for the NCR border. I think we'd have heard something by now if they got caught; Caesar wouldn't have been able to resist rubbing it in our faces. Same with Boone, although he might have drank some poisoned water."

"Poisoned water?"

"It's complicated." He was bandaging her back now. It still stung like a motherfucker, but at least it had stopped bleeding. "Arcade, are you … did they hurt you?"

"Me?" he replied. "No. I've actually been pretty lucky here. Caesar needed some urgent help, which I provided under repeated threat of death and dismemberment, and since then I've had more than enough work to do. Medicine is medicine. I'm just considering this a temporary job reassignment during which I can hone my trauma surgery skills. Although I might have to consider a specialization in abnormal psychiatry, because _are you crazy?_ What were you _thinking_ challenging Inculta? You know he's a monster, right?"

"I didn't know about the whole stakes thing!" She grimaced, in both pain and embarrassment. "I thought it was just a fight to the death and that I could use it to get killed relatively quickly. If I'd known what it actually was, I would have requested a damn bullet to the head instead. What are you doing?" Arcade had pulled out a number of small syringes.

"I managed to sneak some Stimpaks and Med-X from my supply out here. If you win, I go free too, so we might as well have a fighting chance. The deck is stacked against you but with a little luck _what did you do to your hand?"_

"I might have broken some fingers."

"Doing what?" He was giving her that "Six, have you been eating gumdrops and fighting deathclaws instead of taking care of your radiation poisoning?" doctor look again.

"Trntsbvp," she mumbled.

He just stared at her.

"Trying to stab Vulpes," she clarified. "I did it, too, although I think it just pissed him off more. He's got a good slash across his chest. Should I aim for that?"

"This is your fighting hand, too," he sighed. "We might as well just tape the machete in there and hope for the best." Arcade eyed a roll of medical tape. "Actually … that's not a bad idea. He needs to make you surrender or knock you out instead of kill you, right? It'll be hard to do either without disarming you. I've got your gladiator's tunic and machete here. If we tape the damned thing to your hand, it'll be much more difficult for him to get rid of the machete without taking a hand with him. And he won't be able to complain about you breaking the rules unless he wants to look like a whining child to his boss."

"I think he probably wants me with both hands," she said, shrugging into the light armor.

"I bet he does," Arcade said, beginning to wrap the tape around the blade clutched in her hand. "Did you hear about that NCR ranger -"

" _No,_ Arcade. God. I've been trying _not_ to hear about the NCR ranger for days." She paused, considering her situation. "Arcade. Please. Be honest with me. I've got a blade now. Should I just cut my own throat?"

He thought for a moment. "If I know you – and I'd like to think I do – I think you'd take any chance over certain death."

His words felt right to her. "A fight it is, then. Any other advice?"

Arcade primed a vein and began injecting her with the healing chems. She quickly felt the majority of the pain turn to numbness, and then heat. "Aiming for the spot you hit before is an idea. Try distracting him with the machete and use your other hand to punch him in the face or claw his eyes out or something. Or bite him, although I see he's ahead of you on that count." She screwed up her face as he cleaned the wounds on her neck. "He likes to talk, so use that against him. Pretend to pay attention and then go for the throat. And the big one is that he can't kill you without forfeiting his stake. You're under no such restriction."

"And if all else fails?"

He gave her a smile. "You need to read up on your world history. Do you think there's never been a slave who revolted and killed her master? Or a slave army that threw off their chains and beat their conquerors? Win if you can, embarrass him if you can't, and leave a few nasty scars. And then start planning for the next opportunity."

She felt warmth spreading throughout her that had nothing to do with the chems. "Arcade, that is _exactly_ what I needed to hear. Thank you. _Thank you."_ She heard someone outside yelling that it was time. She hugged Arcade as tightly as her wounds could stand. "I love you."

He squeezed her back. "I love you too, but I'm afraid we just might have to stay friends. You see, I have a terrible curse that causes me to like guys with cute butts instead of ladies and their jiggly bits." They were both grinning now. "Strangely, this curse seems to have affected several members of this all-male army that focuses on intense physical training and wears skirts into battle. Must be contagious."

The legionaries had opened the door into the arena and were motioning for her to get moving. Arcade smiled at her. "Go get 'em, tiger. See you in the NCR, right?"

"Right. Cass is having a party in Shady Sands, and she'll be pretty pissed off if we aren't there." She was cleaned up, relatively free of pain, and had a sharp machete taped to her arm. Oddly, in spite of the impending fight, she felt better than she had since they first escaped from the Lucky 38. She stretched her arms and legs, feeling the tense muscles loosen, and walked out into the arena.

Apparently, a sunset fight between the fabled Courier and the leader of the Frumentarii had drawn a lot of interest. The makeshift stands were packed, mostly with legionaries, but the occasional townsperson was peeking out from around the edges. Vulpes was waiting in the middle, dressed in the same gear as her. He narrowed his eyes as he saw her hand. No one could hear them over the hoots and cheers from the crowd.

"You taped the machete in your fist? Most unsporting. I feel like that's against the spirit of the thing."

"Want to cry to your boss about it?" she baited him. "That'd make you look really good. Besides, if you hadn't broken my fingers, none of this would be necessary."

"And if you had not stabbed me, you would be enjoying full use of your hands right now. I like my teeth marks on your neck, by the way. I think I'll keep those fresh for a while after I win."

"After _I_ win, I'll have to remember to dig around in your chest a little bit more. I'd love to see if you actually have a heart or if it crumbles to ashes when you die."

"Enough," said Caesar's booming voice, amplified by a trumpet. "You may begin at the sound of the pistol." Six prayed to whatever gods might be listening that they grant her a favor. _I know I haven't been exactly pious in the past, but if you could see through to striking him with lightning or something, I promise to take religion much more seriously._

The pistol went off. Six immediately stepped backwards. She'd decided on a defensive strategy at first. Even with the machete taped into her hand, her fighting arm was weak. She could use the machete as a shield to defend against his blows, then strike with her nails or fists or teeth when he got close enough.

The first clang of machete against machete almost brought tears to her eyes. _Fucking broken fingers_. To her surprise, her fingers went numb after a couple of successful blocks, and she began to hope that she'd be able to use her weapon for its intended purpose after all.

He slashed twice and she blocked them both. She took her first hesitant swipe at him with the machete. Laughing, he stuck his own blade under hers and pulled it up, clearly intending to disarm her. Instead, she tightened her grip and caught both their blades against the arena wall. She lunged for him, clawing at his eyes.

"Bitch!" She hadn't managed to blind him, but he had several long, bleeding scrapes down his face and throat from her fingernails. _First blood,_ she smiled grimly. They both pulled themselves up and circled each other with the machetes, occasional slashes yielding nothing but surface cuts and blocks. She was quicker than he was, but her strength was diminished from pain and blood loss and exhaustion. He would eventually wear her down in a blade-on-blade fight.

Ducking his next swing, she went for his wrist, the one holding the machete, and bit down hard. Unfortunately, this left her head completely undefended. Before she knew it, he had tangled his fist in her hair – _reminder to self, get buzz cut if I survive this thing –_ hit her in the head with the handle of his blade, and flung her face-down into the dirt. She was dazed but conscious, and she still had her weapon. Thank God, Arcade's tape idea was holding up.

Vulpes approached her cautiously to see if she was really down. She knew he wasn't dumb enough to assume she was unconscious and get within stabbing range, so when he reached a few feet from her legs, she flipped onto her back and kicked the arena's sand in his face. Coughing and blinded, he stumbled back, and she took her opportunity. She jumped to her feet and spun around, aiming her machete towards his chest, but she had misjudged the distance with the sand and sweat in her eyes. She only hit him a glancing blow, no worse than the one she'd inflicted in the locker room with her switchblade. She'd put all her force into it, losing her balance, and they crashed together into the dirt. He punched her in the face, twice, and used his own machete blade to trap hers against the ground. She clawed at his neck with her free hand, trying to rip open his throat. His hand closed on her injured one and squeezed hard, snapping the remainder of her fingers, grinding her wrist bones together until they too gave way. Her scream was inhuman.

"Ready to give up already? I figured you'd put up more of a fight," he breathed. She remembered reading once that someone holding a broken arm has all the leverage they need. Well, all rules have exceptions. She head-butted him, sending him reeling backwards. She supported her broken wrist with her good left hand and took a heavy swing towards him, right at where his throat was.

Or where his throat would have been, had he not dropped to the dirt a moment before her blade would have separated his head from his body. He grabbed her ankle and yanked her forward to the ground, straddling her, pinning her wrists and her weapon down above her head. She remembered being in the same position with him in the desert weeks ago. Or was it just a couple of days? Time had been slowed and jagged, and she had no idea what had happened when.

He placed his blade across her throat. "Surrender. Last chance. I can be merciful."

"Fuck you," she hissed, straining upward until she felt the machete cut into her. "Just kill me."

He chuckled unpleasantly. "You're half right on that one. I definitely do intend to fuck you, but I don't think I'll be killing you quite yet." He threw his machete far to the side and grabbed her by her throat, squeezing tightly with the hand that wasn't holding her wrists. _Fuck, unconsciousness counts as a victory._ Her vision began to blur in a matter of seconds. She struggled, and he pressed his lips to hers in a mockery of a kiss, biting down and drawing blood. Things were fuzzy again, and she felt like she was drowning. When she saw the blackness coming for her, she dove in headfirst.

Vulpes let her unconscious body fall back to the floor. He unwound the medical tape holding her blade to her hand and tossed her machete aside to rest with his. Rising unsteadily to his feet, he turned to Caesar and bowed. "My Lord, I hope that you are pleased."

Caesar smiled, one of his rare genuine smiles that he tended to reserve for Vulpes or Lucius. "Pleased as always, Vulpus Inculta. You are the victor."

The crowd dissipated, most of them happy to have seen a sufficiently bloody showing. A few minutes later, Vulpes emerged from the preparation house on his side of the arena, wounds bandaged and back in his Legion armor. He raised an eyebrow at Caesar. "I will admit, that was more difficult than I anticipated. She is a worthy adversary, for a woman. I'll enjoy breaking that spirit."

"And to the victor go the spoils," said Lucius. "What do you want done with the girl?"

Glancing back to the Courier, he said, "Let her doctor friend clean her up and make sure nothing important is permanently damaged. Then have some legionaries bring her to my …" He had wanted to say 'tent', but he was still getting used to the new order of things. "Apartment. Bound and gagged, please. I think I've suffered enough damage at her hands today."


	5. Chapter 5

Six awoke with a scream, a blinding pain shooting up her wrist. She tried to reach for it, but Arcade pushed her back down. "Lay down. You've been out for hours. I'll give you some more Med-X, but I need this to set before I splint it. You're lucky the bone didn't break the skin."

"I take it I didn't win, then," she whispered.

"You did not." He smiled sadly. "But you put up a good fight, and hopefully some of those Legion bastards will think twice before underestimating a woman again. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks," she said. "I'd feel a lot better about that if I wasn't the slave of someone who I've tried to kill twice in the last day."

"We're in this together," Arcade said. "Remember what I told you. You're still alive, still fighting, and eventually they'll slip up and we'll have our chance. I'm here whenever you need me."

She smiled grimly. "I suspect I'll be needing a lot of stitches in the near future." He winced.

After he finished cleaning her wounds again and splinting her wrist, he took out a length of rope. "Sorry," he whispered, "But he ordered you tied and gagged, and I figured you'd rather have me do it than the legionaries."

"Go ahead." He gently bound her hands and feet, making sure to keep the worst parts of her injured wrist free, and tied a red cloth loosely across her mouth. Two legionaries let themselves into Arcade's clinic, preparing to take her away. He kissed her on the forehead and whispered in her ear. "See you on the beach, right? I'll make my famous daquiris." As the biggest legionary lifted her up and tossed her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes, she smiled around the gag and mouthed, "I love you."

Thankfully, the Med-X was doing its job. She didn't even mind how roughly she was jostled as they carried her from Freeside to the Strip. She faded in and out periodically, but had to bite back a dark laugh when they entered the doors of the Ultra-Luxe. _A fitting place for Vulpes, especially since he keeps fucking biting me._ She closed her eyes. Eventually, she heard the telltale ding of the elevator, then the sound of a key in a lock before she was unceremoniously dumped onto the floor. The legionaries quickly backed out of the room and locked the door behind them without saying a word. _Are they scared of me? Were they watching in the arena? Good._

Six rolled over on her side, taking pressure off of her throbbing wrist. Her new cage was a medium-sized apartment, sparsely furnished with a small kitchen, an untidy desk with a computer terminal, a few beat-up chairs and a radio. The desk was covered in paperwork and notes. Since he'd been with her pretty much constantly since he captured her, she assumed everything was a few weeks old. She glanced back at the door, cursing softly to herself when she noticed that it had a computer terminal lock in addition to the old-fashioned kind. Too bad she was terrible at guessing passwords.

She inched her way over to take a look in the bedroom. The large bed looked comfortably fluffy and reminded her of how long it had been since she had a good night's sleep. She gritted her teeth at the iron frame, though, her previous thoughts of a bed with chains on the headboard coming back with a vengeance. Nightstand, lamp, tall bookcase, dresser. Nothing out of the ordinary, aside from the fact that the books actually looked like they had been read sometime since the War. An attached bathroom featured both a shower and a decently sized tub. Her eyes were drawn to a deadbolted metal door next to the bookcase, and she shuddered. A clicking noise brought her out of her thoughts, and she struggled to sit upright on the floor as the door opened.

"Ave," said Vulpes quietly, as he stepped into the apartment. He sighed. The place was a mess, really. Cleaning up was going to be one of her first duties, once they got to the point where she wasn't constantly trying to kill him. Speaking of which, where the hell was she?

He found her in the bathroom, trying to inch her way into the space between the toilet and sink for some unearthly reason. Rolling his eyes, he grabbed her by the ankle and pulled her to the living room, ignoring her yelps of pain. He was going to have to have a word with the legionaries who brought her here. They'd left her still in her gladiator's armor from the arena. Who's to say that doctor she enjoyed palling around with hadn't slipped her a knife or a gun while he was patching her up? Well, he'd take care of that soon enough.

Pulling some documents from beneath his breastplate, he crouched down next to her and untied her gag. She instantly began cursing him and fighting against her bonds. He sighed. "I see we have a few things we need to get straight, _slave_." He relished the word. "I'd like you to take a look at these."

Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the pictures he held. Cass, flirting with a stranger in an unfamiliar bar. Veronica, reading at an outdoor cafe, palm trees visible in the background. Both of them asleep in a motel room. The lights of the Hub were visible through the window of their room. _So they did make it to the NCR. Why is he showing me – oh._

"How did you get these pictures?"

"The eyes of Caesar are everywhere," he said mildly. "I command a network of spies, slave. Did you really think I wouldn't find them? They do seem to be getting on well without you, though. At least for the time being."

"Leave them out of this," she growled.

"I'm perfectly content to let them live in peace with their dissolute ways, provided that you follow some simple ground rules."

"Let me guess. Do everything you want without any resistance?"

Vulpes actually laughed. "What would be the fun in that? I've gotten accustomed to you struggling and cursing me. If I wanted someone _compliant_ , I could have taken any slave girl from Vegas, as is my right. You seem to be a more entertaining possibility. But I do need you to stop trying to seriously kill me, or yourself, or anyone else around here. Escaping would also be a bad idea for you and your friends. I do not like to overuse a threat – it diminishes its effectiveness. So let us consider those the only unforgivable sins."

She nodded, seething in rage.

"Would you like me to untie you?"

"Yes, sir," Six spat the word out like soap in her mouth.

"Cut the 'sir' bullshit out too, while we're at it," he said lightly, pulling her to her feet and cutting through the ropes. "At least in here. In public, you will refer to me as 'master'. Don't give me that look, it's one of the least offensive things I could make you do."

"I'm not giving you a _look,"_ she said, leaning her broken body against an armchair.

"Yes. You are."

Six was becoming increasingly confused. Vulpes could seemingly switch from terrifying threats to light banter at the drop of a hat, depending on his mood. It was as if there was no difference to him whether he was torturing her or teasing her. She wondered which was the actual man and which was the persona that he wore as head of the Frumentarii, if there was any humanity in him at all or if he was simply the monster she'd seen at Nipton. He had claimed to want her submission and obedience when speaking to Caesar, but in private he seemed to delight in her defiance. The only emotion he'd shown that she was sure was genuine was his lust when she challenged him about the NCR ranger back in the desert. Maybe he was being honest; maybe he just wanted a more difficult toy to break this time.

"Why are you being nice to me?" She hadn't intended to actually voice that thought, but she was tired and starving and in constant pain, and didn't feel like playing along with his games.

He stopped and stared at her. "I'm not being nice to you. I'm simply withholding cruelty temporarily. We're both dirty, exhausted, hurting and hungry. I'm in no mood for torture or bloodshed. Once we remedy these conditions, I'm sure you'll change your opinion on how _nice_ I can be."

That was about what she had expected. Still, she couldn't resist baiting him."Ooh, do I get to see what's behind that deadbolted door?"

"Maybe as a punishment, if you're very bad." He smiled in a way that would have made the Devil himself run away, and there was absolutely no mistaking the look in his eyes. "Or as a reward, if you're very, _very_ good."

Six didn't like that statement at all, and she liked what he said next even less. "Now take off your clothing."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," she said incredulously. "After that little speech?"

"That was an order, not a request, and I expect you to follow it. Strip, or I'll do it for you, which will put me in a particularly unpleasant mood and gain you absolutely nothing in return." She remained silent. "If it's any consolation, it's for a bath. We're both filthy, and until I can be assured you can do laundry without ruining it, I'm uninterested in keeping a muddy prisoner in my apartment."

As if to prove his trustworthiness, he walked to the bathroom and she heard him fiddling with the taps. She could feel the heat from the water all the way in the living room. She stared at the bathtub longingly, wishing for bubble bath and maybe a glass of wine. In minutes, Vulpes returned to sit in an easy chair in the living room, and indicated with a gesture that she should hurry up. She slowly unlatched her gladiator's armor, letting it drop to the ground, and tried to turn away from him.

"Keep facing me," he instructed. She noticed he was removing his boots and beginning to unlatch his own armor. "The rest of your clothes now."

Swallowing deeply, she pulled her undershirt over her head and tossed it on the floor. Her panties soon followed. She was glad to be rid of those, at least. Not being able to change your underwear for several days was unpleasant, to say the least. She covered her breasts and mound as well she could, then looked at Vulpes. She was shocked to find him risen from the chair, completely naked, and quickly averted her eyes.

He laughed at her modesty. "Come now, slave. Don't tell me this is the first time you've ever been naked with a man?"

She blushed and tried to turn away, which told him all he needed to know. He was genuinely surprised. With her caustic wit and degenerate friends, he had assumed she was far from pure. _That sniper of hers was an absolute moron not to take advantage of this._ "I asked you a question and I expect an answer."

"As far as I know, no, I haven't. Like I said, I don't remember anything from before I was shot. I could have been a Gomorrah stripper before, but I've been too busy trying to stay alive since then."

"A virgin, essentially, at least in the mind," he practically purred. This conversation was going rapidly down a dangerous path. "Too bad for you. Get in the tub."

Still looking steadfastly at the ceiling, she shuffled forward and stepped into the bath. The water was hot enough to sting her, but it was still the best thing she'd felt in days, other than Arcade's Med-X. She scrubbed herself everywhere with the rough soap and sunk her head beneath the water before removing the bandages around her wrist and neck. She gently washed her wounds, hissing at the slightest pressure on her broken wrist, and she put the splint back on as soon as possible. She ducked her head under the water again and tried to comb out the tangles in her her hair with her good hand. Idly, she wondered if Vulpes happened to have any shampoo around. Somehow she doubted it.

The water rippled around her, and Vulpes gently slid into the tub behind her, leaning back against the far edge, not touching her. He scrubbed himself with the rough soap for a few minutes, then pointed to a TV tray balanced on the sink. "I brought food."

In the bathtub? She looked over at the tray, on which he'd placed a couple bowls filled with pork and beans, Cram, Cheezy Poofs and a few bits of banana yucca fruit. He'd also put some Nuka-Cola in a plastic cup, apparently unwilling to trust her with anything made of glass quite yet.

"You eat junk food while taking a bath?" _Men._ She was going to have to learn to cook, and fast.

"I generally eat with the army, but I doubt they'd be interested in dinner at midnight. We'll have to make do with what we have here, unless we decide to follow the example of the previous residents and resort to cannibalism. In which case I call dibs on that dissolute cattle baron who's been infesting the upper suite here for far too long. He looks like he's got a good amount of meat on the bone."

Six was amused despite herself. "That, or you just want his apartment."

"How dare you accuse me of considering a sin against nature for material gain?" He sounded angry, and she tensed herself for a blow, before she heard him chuckle and relax back. "I'd do it because he's an irritating, self-important blowhard who thinks he can use money to manipulate the Legion. And also because I want his apartment."

They sat in silence for a few minutes, devouring their junk food. Six even put aside her distrust of any drink offered by the frumentarius to try some of the Nuka-Cola. If he was going to poison her again, he'd have plenty of other opportunities.

When he spoke again, it was another surprise. "Your back is a complete mess. Let me wash it."

"I can do it myself," she snapped.

"Actually, no, you can't, because in case you thought I hadn't noticed, you can barely move your arms backwards and your wrist is broken. Is this really a battle you want to fight? Give me the soap. I'll even take care of that rat's nest you call a hairstyle."

His hands were gentle on her shoulders as he wiped the foaming washcloth across her cuts and washed the blood and dirt from her hair. She was too exhausted to be scared anymore. Six was debating whether or not to lean back and just fall asleep when he suddenly wrapped his forearm around her neck and squeezed.

"What the fuck -"

"I'm not sure if you knew this, but all slaves get marked. It's usually a brand or a tattoo, but I figured due to our unique history, you deserved something a little more special." Vulpes reached to the side of the tub and picked up the combat knife he had concealed under the rug. He pushed her forward in the bath, dug the knife deep into the skin of her left shoulder, and dragged it downwards as she screamed. Then again, three more times in total, in the shape of an X. He was draped over her, both of them wet and naked. Her writhing was exciting him, something which she couldn't have failed to notice. He wiped down the new cuts with the washcloth, quickly bandaging and drying her, then dragged her out of the tub by her good arm and tossed her on the bed.

"You cocksucking bastard," she hissed, scrambling to sit up. "I thought you were too tired to torture anyone tonight."

"This isn't _torture,_ slave, it's the way things are here. I needed to get that done before someone else saw you and decided to try to take you as theirs," Vulpes said mildly, walking to his nightstand and pulling out the chains and manacles Six was becoming all too familiar with.

"I noticed that didn't stop you from enjoying it, though," she bit out the words.

"What can I say?" he shrugged. "There's just something about a wet, naked girl squirming beneath me. Now stick out your wrist."

"Oh hell no."

"Since I clearly can't trust you yet not to escape or stab me, you're going to have to be tied down," Vulpes said calmly. "If you give me your good wrist, I'll tie it to the headboard and we'll be done with this and can go to bed. If you decide to argue more or fight me, however, I'll chain you spread-eagle on your back, totally defenseless. And I can't promise you that I won't just decide to ravage you right there. Or when I wake up. Or a few times after that."

 _That's not exactly much of a choice, but I suppose that's what he wants._ She held out her left wrist. He snapped the manacle on and lifted her up to the head of the bed, threading the chain through the iron headboard. The bed was just as soft as she had imagined. Six turned and faced the wall, not wanting to spend any more time looking at his face than absolutely necessary. He laughed, and she felt the bed dip behind her as he climbed on and pulled her to him, wrapping his arm around her waist. She stiffened.

"I thought you said we could go to sleep."

"This is how I sleep. I like having a warm body next to me. It's … soothing," he said begrudgingly, as if admitting that he wanted comfort was a sign of weakness. "Now rest."

He pulled a blanket over them. She considered staying awake to spite him, but she was out in a matter of minutes.


	6. Chapter 6

When she finally woke up, she was alone in the bed, and the sun was high in the sky. She twisted around to check her Pip-Boy, bedraggled but still attached to her chained arm, and saw it was two in the afternoon. _Guess I really did need that sleep._ She tensed as she heard someone walking around in the outer room, but grinned broadly when Arcade walked in the bedroom door.

"Hey, it's my favorite person in Vegas! By default!" She noticed he was carrying a set of keys in his hand. "Are you here to rescue me? Do you have some sort of daring escape plot?"

He laughed hollowly. "Seeing as I have no weapons, no armor, am a captive myself, and there's about a million legionaries between us and anywhere safe, it would be a pretty pathetic rescue mission. Officially, I'm here to make sure you eat and drink and see to any injuries. Unofficially, I'm here to see if 'that damned Courier has managed to refrain from destroying the Strip and everyone in it', as Caesar put it. I think you might have scared him."

"Yeah, about that." Six flinched as he unlocked her manacle. She tried to rub her sore wrist, and then realized that the broken wrist hurt about ten times worse. "Veronica and Cass made it to the Hub, but they're being watched by the Frumentarii. I was explicitly warned that any fuck-ups, murder or suicide attempts on my part would result in them joining us here or worse. So we need to watch our step."

"That's not surprising," Arcade said. "I overheard Caesar and the others talking. They don't want to give you a slave collar because they figured you'd just run off on purpose to make it explode, so Vulpes said he'd come up with something else to keep you under control."

"That he did." Arcade was sitting on the side of the bed, staring at her with a look of concern. She read the unspoken question in his eyes. "I'm okay. Really. We were too tired to fight or … anything, so I just washed up and then passed out for half a day."

"Well, you are chained to a bed, so certain assumptions could be made," he said, letting out a breath that she didn't realize he'd been holding. "I'm glad to hear that they were unfounded." _For the time being. I doubt my luck will hold up much longer._

"He cut the hell out of my back, though, if you could take a look at that. He said it was something they did to all Legion slaves, branding or tattooing or cutting to mark them as property. Did they do that to you?"

"No, but officially, I'm not a slave. Just an honored guest of Caesar," he smiled grimly as he helped her off the bed and to her feet. She wrapped a sheet around her to give her a semblance of modesty, not that Arcade would care.

"The sort of honored guest where you have to do what they tell you and they'll kill you if you try to leave?"

"That would be the sort, yes," he said as they headed into the living room. "They have better medical care than I initially thought, now that they've gotten over their reluctance to use healing chems, but I think Caesar likes to keep me around so he has someone to argue with. So few of the Legion are literate or educated, and of those that are, none would dare disagree with their leader. Every other night he calls me in for a chat about just some random archaic thing that has nothing to do with the war. We actually had a long discussion about the rights of man a few days ago, if you can believe that."

"The _rights of man?"_ she sputtered. "How on Earth did you keep from just yelling 'You're a slaver! You own fucking slaves!' over and over again?"

"It took an immense amount of self-control," he admitted. "I brought you some fresh food and water, so chow down while you can. I'm going to take a look at your wrist and neck. I doubt I'll be able to do anything for your back, though, other than a little more Med-X to keep you going; if I stitched it up it wouldn't scar, and that seems to be the whole point."

"I don't think I'd have been able to resist yelling at Caesar," she said around a mouthful of fruit as he fiddled with her wrist. "Ow! Son of a bitch."

"I don't think you would have either," Arcade said. "I suppose that's why I'm walking around with the keys and you're the one chained up."

"You need to stop hanging around with that dictator and his pals," she said, teasing him lightly. "I think they're a bad influence on you."

"Keep making fun of me and I'm not going to tell you the good news."

"What, there's actual good news here?" she said, surprised. "Is that even possible?"

"Indeed there is. Remember how I said there was a shortage of literate and educated people in the Legion? I managed to convince Caesar that since you can read and write, you'd be better off doing more important work than hauling around boxes all day or working in the kitchens like the other slaves. You'll be assisting me for the time being, until you can show them that you're not going to go berserk and machete everyone to death, and then Caesar has some sort of task for you himself. Don't worry, I think it involves books."

"Thank you, Arcade. If I have to work for the Legion, that sounds like a better job than most," she said. "How did my _master_ feel about that?"

"He vociferously objected, which wasn't much of a shock," Arcade said. "He just doesn't feel like they can trust you out of chains, for some reason. Maybe it was all the stabbing."

"That might have contributed to it."

"Anyway, Caesar told him that you had to do something during the day so you wouldn't 'be a distraction' to Vulpes, and that it was either that, physical labor or kitchen duty. He muttered something about cazador poison in the food and shut up after that."

"Please. Cazador poison has a distinct taste. I'd never be able to get away with it." He finished giving her the Med-X and set her bandages. Six had to admit that things could be worse. She wasn't hungry or thirsty, she had actually slept for more than two consecutive hours, she was clean, and she was hurting a lot less than she had at any time during the past week. Of course, this meant that something was going to fuck everything up.

"What's his deal, anyway?" she asked.

"Inculta?"

"Yeah. I can never tell if something is going to piss him off or make him laugh. He tells Caesar he wants me to be obedient and broken, and then he tells me he likes it when I struggle and swear. It makes things difficult."

"Damned if I know," he shrugged. "I heard he's a sadistic bastard, though. Rape, torture, bondage, mind games, all that Legion stuff. They all play at it, but he's really got a taste for it. He's smart as hell, too, and a good talker." Arcade paused for a second. "I think he wants you because you're mouthy and willing to fight him, but he can't tell Caesar that because good legionaries like their women silent and compliant. One thing I'll tell you – don't break. He has a reputation for torturing his slaves until their minds snap, and then he kills them because he has no further use for them. I'm not trying to scare you, but you need to know."

"Like the infamous NCR ranger?" she asked, trying to ignore the rest of his chilling warning.

"What I heard on that one was that he wanted to keep her as a permanent slave after they got all the information they needed, but she got her hands on a knife and killed two legionaries at the Fort who were … you can probably guess what they were trying to do." Six shivered involuntarily. "So he made an example out of her instead."

"It sounds like it was effective," she said. "So I have to toe the line between being obedient enough to keep Vero and Cass alive, and disobedient enough that he still finds me entertaining?"

"Pretty much," he said grimly. "Have fun with that. I'm walking a similar line every time I talk to Caesar. I never know if I'm about to go too far and wind up on a cross."

Arcade glanced out the window at the sky. "Speaking of which, I've got to get back or they're going to give me the third degree about what I've been doing here. Go use the bathroom and wash up, and then I'm supposed to chain you to the radiator in here for some reason. Inculta will be back in a few hours."

"Is _not_ chaining me to the radiator an option?"

"Not really. How about if I 'chain' you to the radiator and then you suddenly demonstrate incredible strength and snap the chain in half?" He pulled out a knife and used it to bend the metal on one of the links outwards. "There you go. Not my fault if you break free. Maybe they need better equipment."

"Thanks. I better not try to get out of the apartment, though. They'd probably pull the trigger on Cass and Veronica. Have you heard anything about the outside world?"

"Just little pieces here and there," he said. "The NCR is pissed off, as you would expect, particularly now that they're surrounded at the Dam and the Legion's knocking at their border. Caesar thinks they're planning a counterattack to take Vegas, so he wants to try for the Dam again first and solidify control."

Six sighed in relief. "I was worried they were going to abandon us."

"I'm sure that's been argued, but this area is too close to their territory for comfort. If they invade, please just let them annex the damn place this time, will you?" he smiled.

"Don't worry, I know what side I'm on now. And if I get a chance, I'll never set foot in the Mojave again. The whole place can fall into the Divide for all I care. Anything else?"

"Jacobstown and Goodsprings got wiped out."

"We saw that. Are there any holdouts?"

"Yes, actually, Novac and Primm are both doing a decent job at keeping the Legion at bay. They've got significant NCR presence now, and rumor has it that the Brotherhood is rebuilding something at Black Mountain. And the Legion can't do anything in Vegas south or west of the strip, because it's full of pissed-off raiders and fiends hiding in abandoned buildings." He paused for a moment, and his eyes lit up. "Oh. OH! I heard today that a group of rangers snuck out of the Dam and managed to take out the few legionaries who were keeping an eye on Cottonwood Cove, and then the NCR poured in in droves. So their little Vegas offensive is about to be cut off from their main supply chain."

"Are you kidding me?" she said excitedly. "Fan-fucking-tastic. Push them back all the way into the Strip, then nuke the place."

"We're in that place."

"Don't care. Totally worth it."


	7. Chapter 7

Things rapidly degenerated once Vulpes returned home. He was clearly pissed off about something, probably the loss of Cottonwood Cove. Without saying anything, he unlocked her manacle, not even noticing that the chain was broken, pulled her to her feet, and began to push her towards the bedroom.

"It's only eight. I'm not tired yet."

He smiled maliciously. "Don't worry. You're not going to be doing any sleeping." Shoving her onto the bed, he closed the door to the bedroom and began to take off his armor, her makeshift robe long since discarded on the living room floor. "I've been thinking about this all day."

She scooted up to the headboard and tensed her body for a fight. "Do you really think I'm going to let you rape me?"

"Do you really think you can stop me?"

"You're a fucking lunatic," she spat.

"I'd watch your mouth if I were you, unless you'd like me to put something in there to make you shut up." He was naked and hard now, and advancing on her slowly. "I have a few ideas on that front."

"Try it. Want to see how hard I bite?"

"Want to see how fast I can get to your friends in the NCR?" Despite his dark words, he seemed to be enjoying baiting her into anger. "I'm sure the lovely Veronica would appreciate a stay with the troops. I wonder how many cocks she could take at one time before she begged for them to kill her? Maybe I can give her the same special treatment I gave that ranger. She has feelings for you, correct? You can join us, then."

Her self-control snapped and she lunged for him, intent on inflicting any sort of damage she could. He caught her good wrist easily and pinned her back to the mattress. Her eyes widened when she saw him pull out the damned chains on the headboard.

"Get off of me. Get _off!"_

"That was my intention, yes." He grabbed her jaw and held it shut while staring into her eyes. "Dearest Courier, you don't seem to have much respect for your new position here. You are my _property._ You have _no_ choice in what happens to you now. If I want to fuck you bloody here in my bed, I will. If I want to whip you and cut you and burn your pretty skin, I will. If I want to toss you to the legionaries and have them do all of that for me, I can do that too. And since you couldn't even go one day here without trying to attack me again, if I ever get it in my mind to see all of your friends raped, tortured and crucified as you watch, I will _happily_ arrange for that as well."

She laid there, struggling not to hyperventilate, as he pinned down her arms and snapped the manacles on them. He straddled her and whispered in her ear. "Do I have to tie down your legs too, or can you be a good girl for once? This could be pleasant for you, if you just ask nicely and do what I say. I could have you screaming in ecstasy, over and over again. Just say 'please fuck me' and I'll be gentle and take you like a lover. Or I can make this hurt. A lot. More than that whipping, more than that broken wrist. I'll bite and you'll bleed and I'll tear you open with my cock, for _hours."_

He leaned back on his knees, allowing her to see him fully for the first time. He was slender but well-muscled, with narrow hips and a flat stomach. His sinewy torso was criss-crossed with scars, including the two she had so recently inflicted on his chest. Against her better judgment, she looked lower. His cock was impressively thick and of a decent length, at least compared to the ones she'd heard about during Cass's drunken post-hookup ramblings, and he looked to be hard as a rock. She couldn't imagine how he would be able to fuck her without her being in complete agony, but she had the feeling he was unlikely to care. He was clearly getting off on her pain.

Every rational synapse in her brain was screaming at her to let this one go and submit. He was going to do what he wanted anyway, so what good would fighting do? _Just say please and it won't hurt._ He was leaning into her, and she was ready to acquiesce when she suddenly remembered what he had said about Veronica, earlier in their fight.

She kicked him in the face instead.

Vulpes caught her ankle right before it would have connected with his nose, jerked it to the side, and raked his fingernails across it, leaving red crescents behind. She yelped and twisted in his grasp.

"So you're picking the hard way?" he said, smirking. "Good choice. My personal favorite." He was glad she hadn't chosen to submit, and idly wondered why he'd even presented that as an option. Gentle had its place, but after weeks of chasing her and her band of idiots through the desert, he had some aggression to work out.

He grabbed her ankles and held them to each side while he moved between her knees. Once he was satisfied that she wouldn't be able to hide herself from him, he bent down and kissed her. Predictably, she bit his tongue. He pulled back, spitting out blood, and slapped her across the face before moving his mouth to the undamaged side of her neck. He licked and sucked for a while while she tensed beneath him before finally biting down. Six hissed and cursed the air blue when he worried the wound, making sure it would leave a scar.

"You fucking bastard. Cocksucking Legion motherfucker. When I get free I'm going to hang you from your own goddamn intestines. I – agh!"

Satisfied that he'd damaged her neck enough, Vulpes idly trailed his fingers down her body while she swore her vengeance. When he ran a hand lightly over her breast, she shivered beneath him and her nipple hardened. Intrigued, he did it again on the other side, while his free hand traveled lower, between her thighs.

"Stop it," she hissed.

"Mmm, what was that? Do it again?" He slid one finger inside her and probed, finding her tight and hot. Two fingers and she moaned, struggling to get away. "I suppose you were telling the truth earlier when you said you hadn't been with a man," he said casually. "I've never fucked a virgin before."

"Lucky me," she said bitterly.

"So tight, and with only two fingers," he remarked, withdrawing them to dance circles around her clit. "You'll bleed."

"I thought that was the whole point."

"So it was," he said, leaning in to tangle his hand in her hair and kiss her again. Having learned his lesson from the last attempt, he stuck to the outside of her mouth, occasionally nibbling at her lip while his other hand stroked between her folds. "You're getting wet, by the way. Clearly you don't object to this as much as you claim. Do you like a little pain? A little monster in your man?"

Vulpes reveled in the shame in her eyes as he pulled his glistening fingers away and held them in front of her, making her watch them shine in the moonlight. _This is much more interesting than just ripping into her._ Not that he wasn't planning on doing that anyway, but simple brutality would just make her hate him more. Forcing her to respond would make her hate herself.

He continued petting her for a few more minutes as she steadfastly refused to meet his gaze, counting the cracks in the ceiling and trying to remain absolutely silent. She closed her eyes as she felt him remove his fingers, lift her hips, part her thighs and press against her. "This is going to hurt quite a lot. But you probably knew that already."

A slow burning gave way to blinding pain as he thrust inside her. Six had bitten her lip in preparation, but she found that she couldn't hold back a scream. He was tearing her apart, as he had promised, and she felt blood trickle down the back of her thigh. She wondered if there was anything she could possibly say to get him to stop at this point and decided that there probably wasn't. Not with the dark yet triumphant expression on his face as he steadfastly pushed deeper into her, splitting her in two.

Vulpes almost gasped himself as he drove his cock as far into her as he could go. It was transcendent, really, how tight and hot and soft she was, unwilling yet wet from his teasing. He found himself wanting to stop time, to preserve this moment as long as it could last. Her obvious agony was just the icing on the cake. He was willing to bet he could have her begging for death within minutes, but he had a more elusive goal in mind.

Now that he was fully seated, he held still as she struggled and writhed around him. "Keep doing that. It feels incredible." Predictably, she stilled. He moved his left hand to her hip to keep her from bucking him off, while his right hand resumed its teasing of her. She stiffened and tried to pull away, but she was held fast by the chains on her wrists, his hand on her hip, and his cock inside her.

Vulpes brought his mouth down to her left nipple, licking and worrying it in the same manner that his hand was doing to her clit. He bit gently and heard her yelp and shudder, but he didn't draw blood. Her skin was beginning to flush red. He ran his tongue up her chest until he found the mostly-healed bite mark from their time in the desert. The moment his lips touched the scar, he felt goosebumps across her arms and legs. A little suction, and she clenched down on him, flooding with moisture. _There we go._ Experimentally, he pulled his cock back a few inches and then pushed forward, expecting a scream or wail. Instead, she moaned under her breath and swore at him. Time to up the game.

"So wet and ready, profligate whore," he whispered in her ear, now thrusting gently but steadily. He rolled her clit between two fingers, eliciting a gasp. "Are you always this much of a slut, or is this just for me? Should I feel special?"

"Creating buttons in people's heads and then being satisfied when you push them and the expected reaction happens is something a _child_ likes to do," she spat. "You might wonder why you can't seem to be able to get a willing woman into your bed and have to make do with slaves and captives." Vulpes smiled. _Such a sharp tongue. I might have to cut it off one day, but I'm sure it has better uses for now._

"I assure you that I've had plenty of willing women, Courier," he said, a slight edge of anger breaking through his casual tone, moving faster inside her. "They always left satisfied. My needs, however, generally extend beyond what a compliant partner is able to provide."

"They're not really into being tied up and tortured, then? Most people aren't."

"Sad but true, Courier." He smiled at her in a way that made her want to jump in a boiling hot shower and call for a young priest and an old priest the moment he climbed off of her. "Women like _you_ are quite a rarity."

"I don't recall agreeing to anything that's happened here tonight." Six tried to affect a bored tone, but his words were getting to her, and God everything _burned_. "Do you just like to listen to yourself talk?"

"Liar," he hissed, suddenly intense. "Your head screams at you each time, but your body betrays you. You shudder and flush when your hands are tied, moan like a whore when I bite your neck, and get deliciously, filthy wet whenever I threaten you. _Look._ " He grabbed her hair and pulled her head forward, forcing her to look at their joining. "I'm just pounding into you now, you're _bleeding,_ and rightfully you should be sobbing and begging. Instead, you're _gods above_ squeezing me like a hot, wet vise, this close to pleading for me to touch you more so you can come. If all your chains came undone, would you sprint out the door, or would you stay here and beg for my cock in your throat, your pussy, your ass?"

"Fuck you," she spat, at a loss for words.

"No, fuck you," he snarled, thrusting in blessed silence for several minutes. The burning had subsided to numbness, then treacherous sparking, by the time he spoke again. "What do you think your sniper friend would think if he saw you now, writhing beneath me and moaning? Covered in my bites, bathed in blood, you looking like a goddess of death and sex? Could you tell him it was rape if he heard you scream my name? Would he ever he able to look you in the eye again, or would he just consider you another whore for the Legion?"

She growled. Using Boone was a low blow.

"How about if I made you beg me to let you come? Not a bad idea, if I do say so myself." Vulpes removed his fingers from Six's clit, making her whine and buck on his cock. He licked her juices from his fingers and resumed his brutal movements. "I can keep this up for hours, slave, and you're _so close_. All you have to do is ask. Just say 'please let me come' and it'll all be over."

For a second, she had felt as if they were surrounded by her family, her friends, all watching and jeering at her. But when she snapped back into herself, there was only the two of them.

She tried to dissociate as much as she could, but within minutes, she felt like she was ready to break and burst all at once, the pain and the need too much. "Please."

He pretended not to understand her. "Please, what?"

 _Master? Sir? What does he want this time? Oh, wait._ "Please let me come," she said between gritted teeth. If anyone else ever heard of this, she would have to kill them, and herself, and anyone else in the vicinity, but she needed this to be over before she went insane.

"Such a good profligate, Spread your legs wider." He pressed his thumb to her clit and stroked it gently while keeping up his thrusts. Within a minute, she moaned and arched as far off the bed as possible, covered in a sheen of sweat, hissing his name and squeezing the cock of the man above her until he let out a strangled gasp. As Six relaxed into the bed, Vulpes loomed over her, spread her thighs with his hands, and began to pound into her viciously while whispering in her ear.

"You're _mine_. My slave, my property, my plaything. I _own_ you. I can fuck you anytime I want, in any way, in front of anybody and you can't do a damn thing to stop me because I'm stronger. You smell like me and bear my marks all over your body. I took your innocence and made you moan my name, and in a few seconds now I'm going to come inside you and take that last little piece of yourself away from you."

"God, can you just shut up?" she breathed. Removing his hands from her thighs, smiling at the red marks he knew would bruise later, he laced his hands around her throat and pressed down. As she tried to catch her breath, she felt him stiffen and jerk as he came inside of her. Afterward, he unhooked one of her manacles and they both fell on the bed on their sides.

He curled up protectively around her, as he had the previous night. " _Mine_ ," he hissed, fingering the twin bite marks on her neck.

Six tried to disagree, but was too tired to argue as she drifted off.

They couldn't have slept more than a few hours before Vulpes woke her up. He was still wrapped around her, still inside of her, running his hands down her body and growing hard again. She groaned and tried to wiggle away, but he only pulled her closer.

"Stop it."

"No. Just relax."

"It hurts."

"Good."

"I _hate_ you."

"I know. Ssh."

He was slower this time, gently pumping into her from behind while rubbing her folds. Idly, she wondered what had happened to the violence of the previous night, and before she could stop herself she asked him.

"Can't just rip you apart each time, Courier," he said, pressing his mouth to the shell of her ear, making her shudder in pleasure. "I plan on keeping you around a while, and I don't want to cause permanent damage. You have to have some time to heal."

"Which could be accomplished easily by leaving me alone," she bit out.

He smiled against her and stroked a free hand down down her stomach. "But that would be no fun. For me, at least. Unless you'd like to service me another way?" He squeezed her ass and she jerked away.

"I'll pass, thanks."

"Pity. We'll revisit that option at a later date." He continued his slow pace until she came apart around him, gasping as he slid his fingers against her and kissed his way across her shoulders. Vulpes followed her soon after, pushing as deep as he could go before she felt a pulse and the rush inside her. She couldn't stop herself this time and burst into tears.

Vulpes rolled her over on her back and stared down at her. "What's wrong?"

She started laughing between shaking sobs. "What's _wrong?_ You. This. Everything. I've been attacked by deathclaws, fallen into a cazador nest, even shot in the fucking head and buried in a shallow grave, for God's sake. But this, not being able to stop you, you making me _enjoy_ it? This is by far the worst thing that's ever happened to me."

He kissed her gently on the lips, then rolled away from her and smiled, listening to her cry alone in the darkness. Now _that_ was satisfaction.


	8. Chapter 8

When Six woke up in the morning, Vulpes was gone. _Small mercy._ He'd left her a bottle of water and, oddly, a book. She flipped through the pages and saw it was a handbook of practical medicine. _Right, helping Arcade. I wonder if that's going to start today? I'm exhausted, injured and a crying mess, but anything's better than spending another day chained to various furniture items._ She fell back into a discontented sleep, only awakening to the sound of Arcade opening the door.

"Morning, sunshine!" he called from the living room. "I'm supposed to come get you and bring you back to the clinic for orientation or whatever. Don't know why they couldn't have the legionaries bring you, it's not like I'm doing _important life-saving work_ or anything, but I managed to score some decent food and ..." Arcade's voice trailed off as he walked into the bedroom. The tray of fruit he had been carrying crashed to the floor. "Oh, shit. Six."

"I look that bad, huh?" she said, trying to force a smile and not cry again. She was glad that no one else had to see her like this, naked and bloody, covered in bruises and bite marks.

" _Fuck._ I'm sorry, I didn't … let me get you unchained and I'm going to run a bath. And I brought clothing and medicine, luckily."

"Make the bath hot," she said, grimacing. "Really, really hot."

After getting the water started, he unlocked her cuffed wrist and helped her up. The look on his face said it all. She fought against the desire to break down, but soon she was clinging to him and sobbing while he murmured soothing words in her ear. When she was finally able to stand, he gingerly helped her to the tub. She hissed in pain as she lowered herself in, but within a few minutes, her sore muscles began to relax. Arcade handed her a bar of soap, and she tried to clean herself as best she could while he sat on the floor in silence, his head in his hands. After fifteen minutes, she began to wonder if he'd fallen asleep. Six reached over and tapped him on the shoulder. "Arcade. Earth to Doctor Gannon. Come on back." When he looked up, she was surprised and somehow embarrassed to see tears in his eyes.

"Arcade, it's okay."

"No, it's not," he choked out. "I'm sorry, Six. I'm so sorry. Everyday life has barely changed for me. I still see the same stuff at the clinic that I did at the Followers, and I've been treated pretty well. I forget what's going on outside, how bad the Legion is, what these people are capable of. I mean, intellectually I know it, but seeing this … God, my stupid mouth. Telling you to _keep fighting_ and _slaves can rise up_ and all that pablum, making _jokes,_ then going on my cheery way and leaving you chained to a fucking _radiator._ Forgetting that this could happen. Would happen."

"Don't forget again," she said quietly. "But I like hearing your jokes, and I need someone to be honest with me about what's happening, even if it's all bad. Telling me to keep fighting is _good._ It's the only thing that keeps me going. Besides, it's not like you can do anything about it anyway, unless you're feeling dumb and suicidal. What could you have done? Grabbed me and made a run for the fence? They'll just hurt you if you start to disobey. Keeping you as free and uninjured as possible is the best chance for both of us to stay alive."

"Yeah, but I came waltzing in here with the damn keys in my hand, like I was no different from one of them," he said despairingly. "I get treated like a favorite pet, walking around free, doing my work. It was just another adventure for me. And you're trapped in here with a monster."

"Not a monster, just a very, very evil man," she corrected. "Monsters don't know what they're doing is wrong. He does. He just doesn't care."

They sat in silence for another moment. Arcade swallowed. "Vulpes sent me in here on purpose instead of sending legionaries. He knew how much me seeing you like this would hurt you."

"Probably," she agreed. "And it hurts you, too."

He blinked back his tears and reached out for her hand. "We're still going to kill them all, right?"

She squeezed his palm. "Every last one. And burn Flagstaff to the ground."

"I'll start planning the barbecue," he said, smiling grimly. "Maybe there's still some recipes for roast flank of evil motherfucking rapist _bastards_ in the Ultra-Luxe kitchen."

"Now that's the gallows humor I've come to know and love," she said. "So what's the plan for today?"

"You don't have to come with me to the clinic if you don't want to," he said. "If you're too hurt to do any work, I'm sure I can make excuses."

"God, no!" Six exclaimed. "I need something to do or I'm going to go crazy and chew off my own hand. I'm in better shape than yesterday. I can move my wrist now, and everything else is … surface injuries. A couple Stimpaks and a nap and I'll be as good an assistant as you could ever have hoped for. I might even learn something about taking bullets out of people instead of just putting them in."

"But you're so good at putting bullets in people!" he exclaimed as she rose from the tub and started drying herself.

"I know, but sadly, the Legion doesn't seem to want me to utilize that particular talent," she said, smiling. Anything to keep that wounded look off his face, the one that made her want to sob in his arms again. _Stay strong. Don't give them the satisfaction._ "Toss me those clothes you brought, then we'll eat and get to work."

Arcade brought over her clothing, which turned out to be a surprisingly well-kept prewar blouse, long skirt, underwear and sandals. They both grimaced when they noticed the leather collar that she'd been forced to wear in the desert. "Um. I didn't see that. You don't have to ..." said Arcade ashamedly. _Does he think he's an accomplice or something?_

"Yeah, I probably do, or it wouldn't be in here," she sighed, picking it up and fastening it back on. "Don't want me thinking that I'm a _person_ or something. And I don't want to get attacked by the legionaries, which is what I suspect would happen to anyone they thought was a free woman walking around the city. It's not exactly fashionable, but it's a small price to pay for relative safety."

They ate the undamaged food quickly and greedily. Arcade gathered his supplies, tossed a Stimpak to Six, then looked around the apartment, narrowing his eyes. If she could look into his head, she suspected she'd see the place in flames.

"I don't think I can bring you back here tonight, knowing," he said quietly.

"You have to," she responded instantly. "Come on, Arcade. Keep fighting the good fight and all that jazz. I couldn't go on if I lost you."

"If you ever ..." His eyes were bright, and she worried he was going to cry again. Then she would start crying too, and she probably wouldn't stop this time until she died of dehydration. "If you ever need to end things, if you can't go back here at the end of the day, just tell me. I've got enough Med-X for both of us. It won't hurt. You need to know that's an option. _I_ need to know that."

"Let's hope it never comes to that," she said softly. "Now let's get the hell out of here."

Arcade's makeshift clinic in Freeside was bustling with visitors. He instructed her in a few basic wound care techniques, and they set about treating their patients. Most of the injured and sick were low-level legionaries who had gotten cut up securing the city or shot by the Fiends who still controlled the areas to the south and west. They talked freely and gleefully to Arcade, telling him stories behind their injuries that Six was sure were almost entirely fabricated. 'I was set upon by knife-wielding Vipers and had to fight my way out using only my bare hands' sounded so much better than 'I tripped over some rubble and gashed my knee open on barbed wire.' She lost count of how many tales began with the phrase 'what had happened was', which she quickly realized was short for 'what I'm about to tell you is a complete and total lie, please don't tell anyone what I was actually doing.' There were also a surprising amount of alcohol and sex-related visits. Arcade pulled her aside and quietly informed her that since the soldiers knew he wasn't working for the Legion voluntarily, they were able to see him about their more 'degenerate' issues without winding up whipped or killed.

There were also a few free townspeople, those who had surrendered immediately and unconditionally during the fight and were allowed to live in relative peace. Six reserved the majority of her scorn for them. _Sure, we took off from the battle as soon as possible, but we were being targeted for insta-torture-and-painful-death, and at least we took out a squad of legionaries on our way out. But I would never have surrendered. Scum._

Arcade had told her that the slaves kept in the city had their own nurse and that the only slaves he saw were 'new captures', coming in to be patched up after their initial enslavement. Most of the new slaves had been shipped back east to repopulate the Fort, which she learned that the Legion had retaken as a stronghold for their planned attack on the Dam. But there were a few around to serve as manual labor, kitchen staff, and entertainment for the Legion. _Poor bastards. But I guess they probably look at me and think the same thing._

The legionaries were by far the most interesting patients, and she found herself studying their reactions to her. Some had the usual 'woman, fetch me a bandage while I ignore the hell out of you' attitude that was common in the Legion, but more than a few seemed in awe of her, and a couple were genuinely terrified. It was only after a decanus had whispered "Good job in the arena" in her ear as she cleaned his gunshot wound that she asked Arcade what was up.

"You have something of a reputation in the Mojave, and for those that saw you fight Vulpes, you've commanded a certain level of respect," he said, washing his hands. They'd finally cleared the line of patients and felt free to talk and rest until the next casualty arrived.

"Really?" she asked. "Because my memories of the arena might be a little cloudy due to terror and pain, but I'm pretty sure I got my ass thoroughly handed to me." She was still bitter about that. _If my goddamned hand hadn't been goddamned broken, I would have taken off that fucker's head and tossed it to Caesar himself._ At least that's what she liked to imagine. In reality, she knew she probably would have lost anyway, since she was facing a bigger, stronger, and far more experienced opponent, but revenge fantasies were becoming an important part of her daily life.

"That's not the point, Six," Arcade said, sighing. "These men were mostly born into the Legion, or have been in it since they were kids. They've been told that women are nothing but inferior creatures and sex objects for their entire lives. How did you think it looked to them when they saw not just a woman, but _the_ woman who screwed up all their plans at the Dam, fighting one of their leaders with a machete? Not only that, but you slashed him across the chest! Twice! You scratched his face, bit his hand, and called him a motherfucker in front of Caesar. They consider you some sort of demon warrior goddess who can't be killed. I'm surprised they haven't set up a cult to worship you."

"How do they know about me calling him a motherfucker? There was barely anyone in the room for that." _Demon warrior goddess, huh? I'll have to remember that._

"Soldiers gossip like schoolgirls," he said, smiling. "Even the Praetorian Guard. Everyone likes to root for an underdog, and everyone hates their boss. Or at least the smirking ambitious bastard sitting next to their boss."

"So I embarrassed him?" she asked. "I like the sound of that."

"Kind of. You did lose in the end. And, well, they might not know exactly what happened, but it's fairly obvious that you're not running around killing the Legion anymore."

"Great," she snapped. "Just another trophy, then. His pet immortal demon warrior goddess." She peered at the horizon out of the tent. "Speaking of which, the sun is setting, and I think we've seen everyone who's been nearly killed today. I should probably be getting back to my _master._ Apparently I'm expected for dinner, according to the note that slave handed me a couple of hours ago."

He winced. "Don't go."

"Eh, I don't like the sound of being dragged kicking and screaming back across the Strip. Which was also explicitly detailed in the note." She noted his grim expression. "Don't worry. I'll meet you back here tomorrow morning, rain or shine." Six was _not_ going to let Arcade find her in the apartment like he had that morning, even if she had to get on her knees and beg Vulpes to be allowed to come to Freeside of her own accord. _Actually, that's probably what it will take._


	9. Chapter 9

The days and weeks of her captivity blurred together quickly. There were no seasons in the desert to differentiate the passage of time, and she had nothing to look forward to anyway. They'd cut off her Pip-Boy, and she stopped counting time soon after her arrival. There was only daytime, where she and Arcade worked at the clinic and passed their free hours coming up with ridiculous hypothetical questions, and nighttime, which she was beginning to view more and more as a lengthy and exquisitely enacted death sentence.

_Vulpes had grabbed her the moment she walked in the door the first night after working with Arcade, tying her hands behind her back with his belt and tossing her face-down on the bed. She screamed in pain when he slipped his fingers inside her, and she'd asked him for a reprieve, just for the night. In response, he'd pushed her to her knees on the floor. She'd taken him in her mouth for the first time, glaring daggers at him the entire time, trying not to choke or bite him, aware of what the consequences would be if she did. When he came, he thrust as far as he could go and stroked her throat to force her to swallow, like he had with the poisoned water on the caravan. She'd begun to curse him to hell and back, but he just dragged her into the bed and fell asleep next to her, her arms still bound. A few hours later, she'd woken to his mouth between her thighs. He'd teased her to two orgasms before she broke down and pleaded with him to stop, that it was too much. Then he'd laughed at her and fucked her anyway. But she was able to walk to Freeside to meet Arcade the next day._

"So if Mr. New Vegas was a human, would you go on a date with him?" she asked Arcade during their lunch break. They were eating sandwiches behind the clinic.

"That all depends. What does he look like? What does he act like?"

"Let's say he looks exactly like you would expect him to look after you heard his voice. Would you go out with him then?"

"Oh, most definitely," Arcade responded. "Wouldn't you?"

"I don't know. The Mr. New Vegas I picture in my head is kind of a sleazeball, like Benny. He looks like he'd give you a disease, or like he'd tell you he loved you and then you'd find him in bed with your sister. I'd rather be with a guy that's a little less smooth."

"We must be picturing different guys, then, because mine would get me into the finest hotel rooms and restaurants using his fabulous voice. I'd never have to talk again. He'd do it all for me."

"Okay, what if he was a robot, but he looked exactly like a human? Would you still date him?"

"Would anyone be able to tell he was a robot?"

"No. But you would know it."

"Hmm. I'd still do it. A robot might have more personality than some of the guys I've dated."

"God, they're right," she said, smiling. "You are a degenerate."

_Some nights were better than others. Some nights he was gentle and left her untied, gave her pleasure, let her pretend that she wasn't being forced. Rarely, he'd be too tired to do anything after a long day of work, once falling asleep at his desk. Tonight was one of the good nights. He'd teased her about her continued lack of cooking ability ("Gods above, it's an egg, woman! How did you survive years in the Wasteland without learning how to cook an egg?") and now they were both reading in the bathtub, her a science magazine, Vulpes some sort of ancient book in Latin. He rubbed her right hand, which still ached at times. She could almost fool herself into forgetting what this was. But the good nights never came twice in a row, and the ones that followed were usually nightmarish._

"If you somehow came into possession of a nuclear bomb, would you use it?"

"Why are your questions always so depressing, Arcade? I ask about dating and drinks, and you're always on about death and war and what we could have done differently."

"Because our lives fucking suck right now? Optimism is in short supply for me."

"All the more reason to pretend they don't. If I focused on the state of our existence all the time, I'd end up tearing out my hair and running through the Strip screaming like a madwoman, which I doubt would do wonders for my reputation around here." She had a sneaking suspicion that his bitter mood was related to how she stumbled into the clinic that morning, in desperate need of stitches and bandaging. Vulpes had choked her with his belt last night while taking her on her hands and knees on the floor, for no other reason than enjoyment of the sounds she made and the way she squirmed back on him while gasping for air. Several of the healing wounds that had encircled her neck had reopened, and then he had slapped her for bleeding on the carpet.

"You didn't answer my question."

"You mean, would I use it if I had one here with us? Or would I use it if we were free somewhere and I could direct it at my enemies without getting blown up?" He didn't need to know that she'd already faced that question and regretted her decision. She hadn't told anyone about what had happened in the Divide, and she wasn't sure that she ever would.

"The second one. The first part is too upsetting even for me. Then we'd have to think about the other person getting blown up and Cass and Vero's safety. We're free and clear in the Hub or somewhere like it, and you've got a button to push. Would you do it?"

"Hell yes. I wouldn't even think twice." _This time, at least._ "Frankly, I'm surprised this is even a question."

"Really? I couldn't do it. Look at what happened to civilization after the last nuclear war. People were never meant to be able to use technology like that."

"Armies like the Legion is what nuclear bombs were made for. Literally, since they were made to end a war that killed millions and was threatening to kill millions more."

"Look at you, knowing your history. But they ended up killing billions. And destroying a great civilization."

"Fuck civilization. Sometimes shit needs vaporizing."

"You make a persuasive, if obscenely stated, point," he said. "Tell you what, if we get out of here and somehow get our hands on some ICBMs, I'll let you make the call, all right? It's the least I can do, at least until I can get you a trophy for Worst Slave Ever."

"I would _absolutely_ put that trophy on my trophy shelf. I'd even build a trophy shelf, just for that."

_It was a stupid mistake, really. She'd gone fiddling with the computer terminal one day when she got home before Vulpes did, even though she knew it was going to be a bad night. Arcade hadn't overheard anything about how the war was going, and they were about to go crazy from not knowing. The look on his face when he opened the door and saw her hastily trying to cover up her useless attempts to guess the passcode was truly terrifying. He'd snarled at her and dragged her to the bedroom by her hair as she tried to make up an excuse, any excuse. She'd panicked as he unbolted the metal door by the bookcase and pulled her inside. He didn't turn on the light, but he'd known what he was looking for anyway, pushing her face first into a wall and snapping her arms into manacles that presumably hung from the ceiling. He took her hard against the wall in total darkness, her only points of contact with reality him inside her and his whispered words about what else the room contained and what she'd be experiencing if he ever caught her doing anything like that again. By the time he finished, she was sobbing in fear and pain, and when he opened the door to the bedroom, she closed her eyes so she didn't have to look at anything in the light. In her mind, the floor was already spattered with her blood._

"Hey, it's my turn today! Let the assistant be in charge for once!"

"Oh, good, I was having trouble thinking up something. That last patient turned my stomach. How do you let a wound stay infected for that long?"

"Let's not talk about that ever again. Ever. On to today's question. Do you think Cass has ever fucked a member of the Legion?"

"Really? Another sex question? Where is your mind these days?"

"I know, right? Sometimes I even have consensual sex fantasies. How dissolute can you get?" He cringed. "It's okay, Arcade, I'm allowed to joke about it. I enjoy making inappropriate wisecracks while my remaining shred of dignity screams at me."

"I truly wish you wouldn't. But to answer your question, I doubt she'd ever get that drunk. She despises them more than anyone I know except Boone, and now us, I suppose."

"Yeah, but what if she didn't know they were with the Legion?"

"I don't think legionaries usually hang out in taverns."

"Vulpes does. So do his spies. He says keeping an eye on places like that is a big part of the job. They're even allowed to drink, just enough so they don't blow their cover."

"Hmm, you're right. Thanks for that. I'm never going to be able to pick up anyone in a bar again without asking for proof of NCR membership. Random hookups: yet another thing I formerly enjoyed that this experience has completely ruined for me."

"So do you think Cass has?"

"Probably. Let's never mention it to her, though. She'll kill herself if she realizes it's a possibility."

"Truly a fate worse than death. I should know."

"That wasn't as funny as the first one. And none of those jokes are ever funny, Six."

_She woke from a nightmare into another nightmare. By the time she'd stopped seeing the deathclaws ripping apart her friends in front of her, she was already whimpering in Vulpes's arms as he tried to figure out why she was suddenly clinging to him so tightly. At first, she'd refused to tell him what she was dreaming about, figuring that he would find a way to turn that information against her. But he was so persistent in his questioning that she eventually relented and told the truth so she could get back to sleep. As she drifted back off, she asked him why he cared. "Because anything that scares you more than me is something that needs to be destroyed immediately," he'd said with a faint smile._


	10. Chapter 10

"If you had to do everything over again, would you do it differently?" Vulpes said.

"What?" Six asked blearily. Vulpes had gotten back from what he had only referred to as "stuff" in the middle of the night after being gone for five days, in a worryingly good mood, and he had definitely wanted to make up for lost time. Now it was long past midnight, and she was trying to get some rest before work in the morning. This was not the time for vague questions. "Everything? Like life?"

"Not life. The choices you've made, not supporting us or the NCR or House. Would you do it the same way, if you could relive it?"

"I kind of feel like you're setting me up for a wrong answer so you can punish me, but I'm too tired to know which answer is the wrong one," she said bitterly. "So why don't we just assume I said the wrong thing and you get on with whatever you had planned anyway?"

"Mmm, you got sarcastic while I was away. Must be that influence of that deviant you were staying with. I kind of like it. And there's no wrong answer. I legitimately want to know."

She sighed and sat up. "Well, knowing what happened in the end, yeah, I would have picked a different side, and you know perfectly well what that would have been. But with the information I had at the time, I still think we made the right choice."

He frowned. "You can't just divorce your actions from the consequences. If you'd made the 'right choice', you would have been happy with the outcome."

"People can't always know how things are going to turn out."

"I make it my business to know all the possible results of the things I do," he said smugly.

"Good for you, then," she said, rolling her eyes. She was toeing the line, but it was late and she was cranky. "I thought there was no wrong answer."

"It's not a wrong answer, it's incorrect reasoning."

"Okay," she groaned. _Why is this conversation even happening?_ "Is this something we can talk about at a later time? Any time other than now? Or the consequences of this action are going to involve me falling asleep and drooling into an open wound tomorrow."

"So insolent. I should do something about that. Well, actually, now that you're up ..." He pushed her over to her back and brushed his lips against hers, his hand drifting between her legs.

"Again? Can't we go back to the question that I didn't understand? I need to _sleep._ "

"You can sleep in tomorrow. You're not going to the clinic. We have something else to do. A lesson."

"What?"

"You'll know it when it happens." She didn't like the sound of that.

As it turned out, she was right to be concerned. They got up around eleven and he walked her out to the center of the Strip. To her left, she saw Lucius approaching them, accompanied by Arcade, who seemed equally confused as to what they were doing there. _This can't be anything good._

Vulpes circled around behind her. He wrapped his arm around her waist and grabbed her chin, tilting her head up to a prisoner on a cross. "Do you like it? I did it for you."

Her heart stopped as she caught the crucified man's eyes, then started again at a double pace. _Boone._

To her side, she heard a low, ragged groan as Arcade sank to his knees.

"Boone," she whispered. "How did you ..."

"He wasn't exactly difficult to find, seeing as he's been taking out our legionaries at the Fort for the past few weeks," said Vulpes, conversationally. "He's good at hiding, though. It took us a little bit to get him mad enough to slip up. I found that detailing the fun I've been having with you here over the past several months was sufficient to get him to come at me with a knife. Not a bad melee fighter, but obviously, I was better."

She was too horrified to move. _I usually wake up from this dream by now. Why aren't I waking up?_

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, Boone," she gasped. "I didn't, I never wanted this."

Vulpes pulled her tighter against him and her skin crawled. "But as we were discussing last night, actions have consequences. You chose to try to be independent and ended up a slave. He chose to kill our men and wound up crucified, as is right." _You motherfucker. I bet he was already up here on the cross when you started that conversation. No wrong answer? They were all wrong._

"Let him down. Please. _Please."_ She usually hated begging, but this was no time for pride. "I'll do anything, absolutely anything, just please God let him down let him down let him down!" She was screaming by the end of it. She heard Arcade praying in Latin from the ground near her and Lucius laughing at him.

He chuckled in her ear. "Oh, I don't think so. What kind of lesson would that be? He's been condemned to death for his _choices._ And I can make you do anything I want anyway, so that's not much of a benefit. Plus, he's been up there all night. As I'm sure your doctor friend has already figured out, even if we were to cut him down, he'd be dead in a matter of hours. You do have one option, though," he said, sliding a gun into her hand. She stared at it as if it were an alien object.

"One bullet. Make it count. I'm sure he would have done the same for you, but, well … he wasn't here, was he?" Boone winced. "Unfortunately for you." _You bastard, he's already dying. Do you have to rub salt in the wound?_

Vulpes let her go and took a step back. She walked up to Boone, the gun still feeling like a foreign intruder in her hand.

"Boone, I can't ..." she whispered, her voice cracking. "I'm sorry I couldn't save you."

Boone tried to meet her gaze. His breath was coming in pants, and blood seeped from the corners of his mouth. He could only get out a few words at a time. "Forgive me. Couldn't save _you_. End it."

Tears welling up in her eyes, she stepped back and aimed the gun at Boone's head. The only right thing to do was to kill him and end his suffering. But the tiny part of her that tended to make bad decisions in situations like this was screaming at her, and she could barely hear anything over the rushing in her head. She briefly considered shooting herself. A quick look at Arcade, sobbing on his knees, made her rule out that idea. But if she shot Boone, that's what she'd dream about every night, forever. She would become a different person, and she might never come back.

Instead, she spun around and shot Vulpes in the chest.

Everything hurt again, and she couldn't move. Her head was pounding and she tasted blood in her mouth. She tried to open her eyes, blinked a few times, then focused in on Arcade's face, leaning over her prone body.

"What … what happened?"

"You shot Vulpes. Good shot, too. Too bad he has decent armor; it hit a metal plate and deflected. Then you tried to shoot Boone, and yourself, and then you ran around screaming and trying to club everyone to death with the gun while Vulpes and Lucius wrestled it out of your hands. Vulpes ended up having to knock you unconscious with a shovel, and then made me sedate you. You've been out for a few hours."

"Boone."

"He's dead. I hit him with a Med-X overdose while you were on your rampage. He was gone in minutes. No pain. I promise."

She lowered her head. "Guess we're next up on the crosses then."

"Doesn't seem like it. Caesar heard the commotion and called them in for a meeting after they'd got you down, and I dragged us close enough to overhear. It's not like it was particularly difficult, they were all yelling loudly enough. Lucius wanted you crucified for breaking his ribs, Vulpes wanted to handle it himself, and Caesar told them both that they were idiots for giving a violent crazy woman who's tried to kill them repeatedly a gun in the first place and that they'd deserved what injuries they'd gotten. Then he told them to work out your punishment between themselves and stop arguing or he'd make them fight it out in the arena."

"And you're not being punished for ... helping Boone?" she asked quietly.

"Lucius and Vulpes were too busy fighting you to see what I did. I'm pretty sure Caesar saw, but he just told me 'I admire your loyalty to your friends' as I was trying to calm you down. Strange man." He shrugged. "I suppose I could be, later, but I doubt it."

"Great," she sighed, trying to sit up, ignoring the ringing in her head. She got dizzy in seconds and laid back down on the exam table. "Arcade?"

"Yeah, Six?"

"Remember how you told me to tell you if I ever needed an end to things? It might be time." She didn't know what sort of punishment they'd dream up for her, but she was sure it would be too much. Seeing Boone had left her hollow inside, and it would only take one push for her to crumble to dust.

She could see tears sparkling in his eyes. "I'm so sorry," he said quietly. "I can't. I don't have enough. I used up most of my spare chems on Boone, making sure it was quick for him, and then I just had enough to sedate you. I could request more but they'll know what I'm trying to do. God, Six, I'm sorry."

Six let out a breath that she'd been holding. She hadn't realize how much she'd counted on that safety net until it was ripped away from her. "No. I'm the one who should be sorry. I did this to myself. And to you and Boone and all the others. I should have just taken the shot. I'm an idiot. I just thought ... I didn't want things to be on their terms, I didn't want to have his blood on my hands and make Vulpes feel like he'd fucking _won._ He's already taken everything else. I couldn't give him this."

"We could still do it. I'll put you out again, cover your mouth and nose, then cut my wrists before they get here. It won't be foolproof but it should work."

"No," she said. Somehow the idea had passed as quickly as it had arrived, and she had recalled something important. "Forget it. Veronica and Cass, remember? And Lily. Gotta keep them safe. God knows we're running out of friends."

He let out a choked sob. "You have that right."

"I'm so tired. My head hurts."

"I think you have a concussion. Want to go back to sleep for a while?"

"Please." She felt the pinch of the needle in the crook of her elbow, but tried to stay with it for a few moments longer. "Arcade. I love you. None of this is your fault."

"Keep saying it and someday I'll believe you."

When she woke up, she felt lighter than air, even though she could tell she was hanging from something by her arms. She tried to stand, but her legs were wobbly and couldn't support her for more than a few seconds. She heard laughter, voices, but couldn't focus enough to identify them. She opened her eyes and only saw gray and sparkles. Her eyelashes brushed against something. A blindfold? She wanted to laugh with everyone but couldn't figure out what was so funny.

A wasp stung her on her wrist, then on her arm. The part of her that was still rational knew there were no wasps, but she didn't care, she was happy now. Hands were touching her all over. She tried to lean into them but was pushed back. The hands turned harsh, pinching and slapping her, and she cried out but only heard more laughter. Then there was pain, a lot of it. She felt as if she was being torn in two from inside, and she struggled, but didn't seem to be able to move at all, as if she were a butterfly pinned down in a notebook. The hands pulled her hair and bruised her lips and squeezed her breasts and bit into her throat. She screamed and screamed and all there was was the laughter and the hands and the agony, until she felt teeth and things went dark again.

The next time she awoke, she knew who she was and where she was, although her head still swum strangely and everything was aching. _Of course it's that fucking deadbolted room. What sort of apartment comes with a torture chamber? Oh, right, White Glove Society. Goddamned cannibals. I'd kill them all again if I could._ Vulpes sat in a chair across from her, glaring as she wriggled in her chains, trying to take pressure off her shoulders. She managed to get up on her toes and caught his eyes. He answered her question before she even asked.

"You were disobedient. Lucius wanted you dead. I managed to convince him otherwise, for a price." He glanced at the bloodstains on her thighs, drawing her eyes downward. "Everyone gets their pound of flesh in the end. But we had fun. Didn't you?"

"Not particularly," she croaked. She hadn't used her voice in ages, other than to scream, and her throat felt raw and burned. "Can you let me down?"

"Not yet. That was Lucius's punishment. Mine is yet to come."

"I can't wait," she bit out.

He smiled coldly. "Still joking. What exactly do I have to do to get you to break, darling?" She cringed. He knew she hated when he called her that - she much preferred slave or whore, more honest terms for their arrangement. So he tended to reserve it for when he was seriously angry.

"I thought you didn't want to break your toys. If you figure it out, let me know. We can end this dance."

"Are you asking what I think you're asking? In that case, no. You don't get off that easy. And I generally don't have much use for broken playthings, but I think that you're going to be an exception. You should shatter quite beautifully, and then I can piece you together again, more to my liking."

"You're going to be waiting a while for that to happen," she hissed.

"Don't worry. We have all the time in the world. But I need to get back to work, so ..." He stood up and headed towards the metal door. "Try not to destroy anything until I return tonight."

He flipped the light and shut the door, leaving her hanging in the darkness. For once, she was at a loss for anything to say.


	11. Chapter 11

The next day, Six trudged across the Strip to Freeside. Caesar had shown some semblance of mercy, certainly unintentionally, and ordered Vulpes to send her back to the clinic to work that day. Either Arcade had complained enough about the lack of help or Caesar was just sick of having to drag his top spy away from his new favorite pastime, but whatever it was, she was thankful for it. It had been a very, very long night, and she idly wondered whether she'd ever be able to have a good night again. Her hips and shoulders felt like they were ready to dislocate, and her mental armor was showing definite cracks; she had begun to see visions of her friends whenever she closed her eyes. She needed reassurance that there was a world outside with sun and air. But the Strip looked no different than it had last week, the air chokingly hot, everything brown and red with dust. She pointedly avoided checking to see whether Boone's body was still on the cross.

Arcade raised his eyebrows when she entered. She knew she must have looked like hell, black and blue all over, dark circles under her eyes, small cuts that were too jagged for stitching.

"Arcade -"

"Ssh." He jerked his head towards a legionary who was standing guard towards the back of the tent. "We can talk later."

They worked in silence throughout the morning. She wondered whether any of their patients were hurting as badly as she was, and decided that it was possible but unlikely. During lunch, they ate cold sandwiches outside the tent while their guard looked on. When he stepped away for a bathroom break, Arcade finally spoke.

"We have to keep it together, Six."

She had intended to offer him words of comfort when they were able to talk, apologies for putting Boone's fate on his shoulders, for failing all of them. Instead, she felt something snap, and whirled around on him in anger. "Why? What's the point? It doesn't change anything. Are you going to tell me to _keep fighting?_ That's done us a whole lot of good so far. "

"Because there's still hope."

"No," she said flatly. "There isn't. That's just a stupid lie that we told ourselves to keep us going. And I'm not going to lie to myself anymore."

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Their last patients were a couple of new captures, two girls, one unconscious and one fighting against a slave collar. The legionary who'd brought them in spoke to their guard in Latin, and took over his position at the back of the tent as the old guard hurried off to an early dinner. She momentarily allowed herself to feel pity and brushed the cheek of the girl she was working on with her fingers. "I'm sorry," she murmured.

The girl's pale green eyes opened and stared, before sparking to life. "Don't be. This is _your_ fucking rescue mission, after all."

She reeled back as the slave sat up and swung her legs off the table. It was Cass.

"You're not real," she sputtered. "This is another trick." Arcade had dropped his equipment in shock, and the other girl – dark hair, knowing smile, _Veronica, or something pretending to be_ – had pulled off her slave collar and was inspecting the explosive lock. She darted towards the entrance to the tent, hoping to see something that would bring her back to Earth.

"Grab her!"

The legionary and the Veronica-creature tackled Six to the ground before she got anywhere near the outside world. She fought and swore at them until they finally let her up, carefully making sure that she couldn't try to escape again.

The fake Veronica looked to Arcade, who was gawking at the scene. "Is she crazy? This is going to be really difficult if she's crazy."

"If she is, it's just been today," Arcade said carefully, edging away from the legionary. "Um. You guys are real, aren't you?"

The red-headed girl who had been pretending to be unconscious frowned at them. "You two are ridiculous. Let me sort it out." She slapped Six full in the face.

"OW! Son of a bitch! Cass!" Six paused for a second. "Cass? You're real. You guys are really here."

Veronica smiled. "How did _that_ change your mind?"

"Because dream-Cass wouldn't have slapped me in my _fucking face._ I get enough of that in the real world. What the hell are you guys doing here?"

"Rescue mission, like I said," said Cass casually. "We've been waiting for you ever since they dragged you into the Ultra-Luxe, Six, and we're not walking out without both of you."

Arcade interrupted her. "You guys need to know. Boone -"

"We know already," Veronica interjected. "We met him in the northern mountains a few days before he was captured and tried to get him to come with us. He said he'd just start killing everything and mess up the whole plan. So we left him, and then we saw the whole thing through binoculars a week later, when it was too late to save him. In retrospect, we probably should have made him come with us anyway."

"At least it was the way he would have wanted to go," said Cass.

Everyone stared at her. Eventually Arcade spoke up. "Crucifixion? I kind of doubt that."

"Nah. I mean watching _her -"_ she pointed to Six, "freak the fuck out and try to beat the leaders of the Legion to death with an unloaded gun."

"Don't joke about that, Cass," said Veronica quietly.

"Before we go any further, do you guys have weapons?" Six asked. "Not that I don't trust you, but I think I'd feel a lot better if I had a weapon right now."

Cass nodded to the legionary, who dug into a bag and tossed her a revolver and Arcade a plasma pistol. She checked to make sure it was loaded and instantly felt reassured.

"We also brought pizza!" said Veronica. "Okay, it might be a little cold by now. I made it last night for you. Marcus, give them the pizza."

Somehow, the bag also contained a homemade pizza, which was stone cold. Veronica started dividing up the slices when Arcade held out a hand to stop her.

"Okay, let's pause for a second," he said. " _What the hell is going on?_ Who is this man? How did you get in here? How are we going to get out?"

Cass smiled at them. "It begins like all of my best stories. I met a guy in a bar."

The legionary – actually, a rather handsome, dark-skinned frumentarius – was called Marcus, and Cass had spotted him from across the room in the tavern she drank at in the Hub. She'd noticed he was drinking Sunset Sarsaparilla, and had teased him, saying that any man who wasn't drunk on a Saturday night must be a Legion spy. So he'd ordered a drink to prove her wrong, and one thing had apparently led to another, and then to Cass's bed, as such things usually did. Unusually, they'd fallen hard for each other. He had confessed his true identity within a week and had told her that he'd been ordered to keep an eye on them and kill them if need be.

Cass paused the story for a moment, taking in Six and Arcade's slack-jawed expressions of shock. Six had actually dropped her pizza on the floor, not that it was much of a loss. "What?"

"My God," Arcade said heavily. "If only the NCR knew what they were missing by not having you as a spy, Cass. All that time you spent at the Mojave Outpost, they could have seduced their way to world domination by now."

"Do you have, like, a magic vagina or something?" asked Six.

Marcus blushed and turned away. "Or I'm not very good at my job. Cass convinced me to come help rescue you. I figured that once the Legion found out about us, I was dead anyway."

"Oh, is there some sort of Frumentarii rule about not _fucking_ your targets?" Six spat acidly, rage rising to the surface, unable to control herself. "Might want to tell your _boss_ that, then."

The five of them gazed off at different points into space until Arcade put his arm around Six. She leaned into him. "We've got some unresolved, and completely justified, anger issues," he said.

"Are these the sort of issues that can be resolved with a power fist?" asked Veronica.

She smiled. " _Yes._ Let's do that immediately."

"Speaking of which, how is this rescue mission intended to work?" Arcade asked "I'm assuming you used Marcus to get in, but they're not going to let us walk out with you, and time is getting tight. Six is expected back by sunset."

"Easy," said Cass. "Well, not that easy. Lily is stealthed by the gate between Freeside and the Strip. When Marcus gives the signal on the radio, she's going to raise all sorts of hell. Meanwhile, in the five minutes between 'help, we're being attacked by a psychotic nightkin' and 'maybe we should check on those high-level prisoners who used to hang out with a psychotic nightkin', we shoot our way to the north gate and run like hell to the road. Cassidy Caravans is about to take a one-way trip to the Hub. Lily's going to meet up with us once we get across the border; there's a nightkin sanctuary in the mountains where she's been hanging out. And we have longer than you think. Marcus here is supposed to escort you back, and everyone's going to be working late since they're about to take the Dam."

"They're about to take the Dam?" asked Arcade. "We didn't know that. That is … not good."

"There's no point in worrying about it right now," Veronica said. "We can work up ways to stop the Legion once we're safe. We need to get out of here while we can."

"Wait, we're just going to run out of the gate?" Six said suddenly. All her fantasies of escape had featured her and Arcade climbing out atop piles of corpses, gutting Lucius, shooting Caesar in his smug face, stringing up Vulpes and leaving him to die slowly on a cross, like Boone had. None of them had involved simply leaving. "But … I wanted revenge. And Vulpes is a nightmare. You guys don't understand. If we leave him alive, he'll hunt us down and kill all of you, just to hurt me. That's if we're lucky _._ " She remembered what he had said about Veronica.

"She's right about that. He will," said Marcus. "He has a certain well-deserved reputation."

"Killing all of us is being _lucky?"_ Veronica asked incredulously.

"Yes," said Arcade, Six and Marcus in unison.

"Revenge is a dish best served cold, right?" Cass said. "Unlike this pizza. Really, Vero, did you use cazador glands for flavoring?"

"Stop changing the subject."

"Regardless, unless we want to take on the central leadership of the Legion on their home turf with the five of us, Lily, and the contents of one smuggled bag of weapons that we couldn't fit a Fat Man into, we're going to have to deal with that later," Cass said. "They'll be busy with the Dam for a while, anyway. Live to fight another day."

"But revenge! Revenge, Arcade."

"I'm with you on that one, Six, but Cass is right," he said. "If we fight today, we're going to lose, _badly_ , _again._ And I'm pretty sure this is our last shot."

"Yeah, I know," she sighed. "Of course we're going to escape. Give us a moment to get equipped and let us know when it's time. And you better have armor in that bag. I may have been beaten, tortured and enslaved, but I draw the line at running for my freedom in an ankle-length skirt." She felt more human than she had in days.

They changed into light leather armor, except for Marcus, who kept his Legion uniform on to maintain their deception as long as possible. Six equipped herself with an assault rifle and a combat knife, in addition to her revolver. As it came closer to sunset, Six began to grow more nervous. Was their plan actually going to work, or was someone going to intercept them when Lily attacked? And how were they going to outrun the many troops between Vegas and the NCR border?

Marcus looked at the horizon. "I think it's time. Most of the legionaries are heading back to their quarters, and those that aren't are finishing up dinner. We'll have the minimum of guards to deal with if we go now."

"Good," Arcade said. "I'm worried that they're going to catch on when Six isn't back."

"Ready, everyone? Start walking quickly towards the gate about ten seconds after you hear the screaming start. I'll let you know when it's time to start shooting." Marcus picked up his portable radio and hit the button. "Kappa alpha sigma. Kappa alpha sigma."

The radio crackled to life. "Huh? Comm to Marcus. Repeat your last. We didn't – _oh shit, what is that thing?"_ Lily roared in the background.

Cass counted down ten to one on her fingers, then Marcus led them out of the tent, heading straight to the north gate.

A legionary veteran ran up to them, out of breath. "Marcus! What are you doing here? Some sort of monster is attacking the Strip. They want everyone up there."

"I know," he said, pulling his gun and shooting the man in the face. "It's time." The remaining legionaries in the immediate area – only five or six of them, in addition to the two gate guards – turned towards them in surprise, drawing their own weapons.

The next few minutes were a blur of violence. Six and Arcade took cover behind a stack of crates, ducking out every few seconds to fire at the legionaries. Cass, Veronica and Marcus had made short work of the three who tried to take them on face to face, but the remaining group was shooting from cover. Six rolled out from behind the crates and fired a shot at one of the legionaries behind a tent, who fell to the ground, blood spurting from his neck. _That was a long time coming._ Another of the remnants stumbled upon their hiding spot, but Arcade disintegrated him quickly.

"You idiots!" came the voice on the radio. _Lucius, shit._ "That's that damned nightkin that runs with the Courier! This is her doing, again. Where are they? Order the exterior gates sealed."

"Damn it!" Cass yelled. "Marcus, we need to get out now! They're shutting the gates!"

Marcus backed up to the north gate, firing at the two last legionaries, taking down one. He pushed at the exit, but it wouldn't budge. "It's locked electronically. I think I can climb over, though, there's enough debris here for me to scale it. Take the last one so I can turn my back."

Veronica helpfully put her power fist through the last man's chest. Marcus climbed onto the top of the gate and shot the two unsuspecting guards on the other side. In the distance, Six saw the gate to the Strip open. "Faster, they're coming through!"

"Ladies first." Cass and Arcade helped boost Veronica up to the top, then Six. She winced in pain as all of her sore muscles seemed to resume aching at the same time. She and Marcus helped Cass up, then finally Arcade, as Veronica ran to the road and wildly signaled for the caravan driver. Bullets were flying again and Arcade and Cass were trying to pull her over, but Six couldn't resist taking one look back from the top. She wanted nothing more at the moment than a Fat Man and a mini-nuke, nothing more than to see this place burn with everyone inside. She felt a stinging pain as a bullet grazed her left leg and quickly jumped down. Marcus was the last one to follow, and then they were all running wildly, Cass and Marcus occasionally stumbling due to injuries they had suffered in the firefight. Veronica waved them over to a cart. "Get in, get in!"

"Fastest brahmin bulls I could buy," Cass said, pitching herself over the edge of the cart and hitting the wooden floor with a thump, then yelling to the driver as the rest of them scrambled in behind her. "Hit it, battle cattle!"

The driver cracked his whip, and the brahmin took off running. Six had only seen brahmin grazing complacently in their pens, so it came as a surprise that they could be quite fast when they needed to be. That, or Cass had laced their food with every chem she could get her hands on.

Her breath caught in her throat as she saw the gate disappear into the distance. They had done the impossible. They had escaped alive.


	12. Chapter 12

Arcade whooped in joy as the wrecked spires of the city faded away. "See you in hell, assholes!"

"Yeah, fuck you, motherfuckers!" Six couldn't help joining in. "You evil, slaving, murdering pieces of shit! Present company excluded, of course." She wasn't quite sure she trusted Marcus just yet, but she knew he wasn't about to put a knife in their backs. He'd had the chance and they were still alive. Unless this was the most elaborate and pointless double-cross ever, he was for real.

Veronica winced. "Do you have to yell? We're going to attract deathclaws."

"I think they deserve a bit of a victory yelling session," Marcus said tiredly, leaning against Cass's shoulder.

"Sorry," Six apologized. "But I thought we were going to die in there. I really did. Then I thought that we were going to live, and that was worse."

"So did I," Arcade admitted. "I was hoping they'd just kill us, those last few days. For your sake more than mine. The look in your eyes when you walked back into the clinic this morning … it was like you were already dead inside, and just waiting for the rest of you to catch up."

"What's the plan for when we get to the NCR?" Six asked, changing the subject as quickly as possible. "As much as I just want to go drink on a beach, I kind of feel like we have a responsibility to do something about the Legion before they take over the whole Southwest."

"I had an idea or two," Cass said. "Six, how do you feel about working your weird voodoo people skills some more? I think it's time that the NCR patched things up with the Brotherhood of Steel and the Followers. The enemy of my enemy is my friend, and all that. We tried to talk to the NCR leadership before, but they just dismissed us as semi-traitors. Now that we're coming back with a shit-ton of intel from you guys and Marcus, I think Kimball will have to meet with us."

"That sounds like a plan. And like you can talk about weird voodoo? You managed to convince a legionary spy to switch sides with your sex magic."

"The course of true love never did run smooth," Cass said, smiling at Marcus, who appeared to be half-asleep, and linking her hand with his.

True love? Now there's a surprise, Six thought. Then again, a guy who would betray an army, incur a price on his head, and march across the desert on a suicide mission to rescue people he's never met is probably someone you want to hold on to. She caught Arcade's eye and smiled, knowing they were both thinking of their lunch break conversation about Cass's hookups. Guess it wasn't worse than death after all.

"There's a Brotherhood bunker outside of the Boneyard," Veronica volunteered. "We can stop there before going to Shady Sands to prime the pump a bit. I think there's a beach you can drink at, too, if that's important to you."

"Oh, God, I missed alcohol so much," Arcade groaned. "Less than I missed you guys, of course. But more than most other things."

Their caravan rolled on through the desert. Marcus slept, but the four friends were too wired to nap. Every time Six closed her eyes, she snapped awake in panic, worried that it had all been a dream and she'd wake up chained to the bed in Vegas.

"So what have you guys been up to?" Cass asked. "It's been four months. Surely you have some stories to tell about life in captivity."

"Nothing that you'd want to hear details about," Six said firmly.

But shortly thereafter, she found herself talking non-stop, as if she'd been holding her feelings in for so long that they had to come out somewhere.

"It was bar none the most horrible experience of my life. I'd rather get shot in the head and buried alive again ten times. I assure you I did nothing brave or noteworthy other than bleed and cry a lot. My back is scarred all to hell, my right hand got broken and healed funny so I can't use it as well, and I practically ended up addicted to Med-X, I was getting the shit kicked out of me so frequently. Don't ever call a legionary a motherfucker in front of Caesar, by the way. Turns out they take that personally."

"Inculta?" asked Vero quietly.

"Of fucking course," Arcade spat. "The biggest bastard in the Mojave. We should have gunned him down on the Strip when we had the chance."

"The worst thing, the very worst, is that I'm going to feel like I'm running for the rest of my life," Six said quietly. "Until he's dead. Because Marcus is right, he's just going to come after us when he has the chance. He's not the sort of person who takes losing well."

"So we'll stop the Legion and kill them all," Cass said. "It's them or us? Sounds perfect. I pick us."

"I'll rip his head off myself if it'll help you sleep at night, Six," Veronica said.

"No fucking way, Vero. You're under a restraining order to stay at least a hundred feet away from any legionary. We'll give you a sniper rifle if we need to."

Veronica glared at Six, wounded. "You don't trust me to hold my own?"

"That's not it. Explicit threats were made about what they'd do if they ever caught you. The Legion doesn't much care for 'deviants', except for Caesar's favorite profligate over here."

Everyone looked at Arcade, who shrugged. "What can I say? I got off easy compared to her. For no reason, really, other than that Caesar liked talking to me and my medical skills made me useful. I don't even have any cool scars that I can use to impress guys in bars. Other than mental scars, and they don't look good in a t-shirt."

"What if we made you one that said 'I survived months of captivity by the Legion and all I got was this lousy t-shirt and these constant horrifying nightmares?'" asked Six. "That might get you some attention."

"That might get me some assassins, you mean," he retorted. "Are you that tired of talking to me? I know you had a social circle of ... no one else in there, but I was starting to think you felt something for me. Maybe even ..." he dramatically put his hand over his heart. "Wuv. Twu wuv."

"I'm going to push you out of this caravan, Arcade. I'm going to push you out and you're going to have to walk to the beach to meet us, because you promised to make me daiquiris."

"Hey, back up a minute!" Cass exclaimed. "I don't get a restraining order? I don't merit threats? I feel slighted."

"I'm pretty sure if you didn't have a price on your head before, you will after shooting your way out of Vegas," Six said. "Luckily, you've got Marcus to take care of any legionary who glances your way. What's his deal, anyway? He doesn't seem like an objectively terrible human being. How'd he wind up in the Legion?"

"He was ten when his tribe was conquered in Colorado," Cass said. "It was join or die, and he didn't feel like dying. And he said he was always better with people skills than brute force, so he wound up in the Frumentarii. Weird to think about, but most of the legionaries don't join up thinking 'I really want to be a murderous, slaving asshole.' It's just a job to them, or a way to get fed regularly, or the only option other than death."

They all paused to reflect on this. "I don't think I'm quite ready to see them as human beings quite yet," Six said eventually.

"Can't blame you," Cass agreed. "Hell, the moment I saw him in his armor, my trigger finger got itchy, and I knew him. I think you guys get a lifetime pass on hating the Legion."

"Speak of the devil." Arcade glanced into the distance. "It looks like there's a roadblock ahead. Probably mined all to hell, too. Any suggestions?"

"I think I have an idea," Veronica said, pulling a grenade rifle from the back of the caravan and aiming it at the mines. She squeezed the trigger, and shortly thereafter a chain of loud explosions echoed through the desert.

"You can be kind of scary when you want to be, Vero," Cass said.

Hours (and a few more dead legionaries) later, they pulled up outside the heavily guarded and fortified Outpost. Marcus had woken up and changed into merc armor so they wouldn't raise suspicions at the NCR inspection point. Just a few more minutes, and they would leave the Mojave behind forever.

"Almost there," whispered Arcade to Six. "Remember that one question that you never let me ask? You said you thought it would jinx us."

"I actually don't remember, but I've been losing my mind lately. Refresh my memory."

"What's the first thing you're going to do when we get to the NCR?"

"Oh yeah, that one." Six smiled. "Luckily, I've got the perfect answer. Vero, can I borrow your knife?"

Veronica handed over a small switchblade. Everyone held her breath as Six brought it to her throat, then twisted, slicing through the leather collar she'd been forced to wear whenever she was out of the apartment. She'd almost forgotten about it, it had been a part of her routine for so long.

"Cass. Your lighter, if you would."

Cass silently passed Six her lighter. With great ceremony, Six held the collar to the lighter, where it dramatically failed to catch on fire.

After a few minutes, Veronica said, "I don't think leather burns. Unless you soak it in gasoline."

"God damn it. It was going to be so symbolic."

"I got this," Cass said, grabbing the knife and collar from Six and shredding it into several pieces. She tossed them from the side of the caravan. "Nothing more than trash, anyway. Hasta la vista and fuck you with a cactus."

The guards motioned them to come to the checkpoint, where they ran into an unexpected obstacle in the form of a cargo inspector. "Cassidy Caravans, huh? Never heard of you. You haven't been authorized to enter the NCR."

"We're traders," said Cass, irritably. "You saw us come through here a few weeks ago. I made fun of your shirt."

"I saw three of you and the driver come through," he said. "Who are the other two? And half of the stuff on your manifest isn't even here. What are you trying to pull? Are you smuggling weapons?"

Six growled under her breath. They'd come way too far to be defeated by the NCR's infamous bureaucracy. Time for drastic measures. And nothing was more drastic than the truth.

"I'm an escaped slave from Vegas," she said. "If you don't let us through, they'll come kill us. And I have intelligence that I plan on giving to the NCR once we're safely on the other side. Where you are preventing us from being."

"Bullshit. No one escapes from the Legion."

Six rolled her eyes and pulled her armor to the side, exposing her left shoulder. She pointed to the red X carved into the skin. "Is this sufficient, or do you want to see the rest of it? I've got enough injuries to spare." She shrugged the armor down further, showing a small part of the network of scars across her upper back. Even Veronica and Cass winced.

The inspector turned red and stammered something about getting his supervisor. Six recognized the look of a man whose problems had suddenly far exceeded his pay grade.

To cap it off, Marcus pulled out his vexillarius helmet and tossed it to the inspector. "Here, you might want this. We took it off a dead one. Don't worry, we have lots of others."

"Um. Okay. You can go on through. Let me radio the ranger station a few miles down the road, so they can talk to you more there."

The gates finally, blessedly, opened. And just like that, they were gone.

One Month Later

The view from the top of the Dam was gorgeous. It wasn't the most private place for a briefing session, but after months in the stuffy conference rooms of New Vegas, Vulpes felt glad to be back outside where he belonged.

"Six months, maybe seven, to solidify control here, according to Caesar," Lucius said. "Then we move west. We'll hit them at the border before they have time to recall all their troops from the surrounding areas. Once we breach the fortifications, it's smooth sailing to the coast. The cities will be considerably more difficult, but the civilians there are weak. They can't handle an extended siege."

"I can't wait to see the our flag over Shady Sands," Vulpes murmured. "It should be sublime. Our crowning achievement. Do you know I've never seen the ocean?"

"Well, you'll see it before we will. Your orders are to move in as soon as the Outpost is down, posing as just another refugee. I'm sure that the charming Mr. Fox will be able to do quite a bit of damage before the army even gets close." Lucius raised an eyebrow. "If you don't get distracted."

"Don't worry about me," he said dismissively. "Patience is a virtue, although I do look forward to dismembering the traitor Marcus as soon as possible. Work before pleasure, after all. The girl and her friends can stay on hold for a while. They're not going anywhere."

"Good. I was becoming concerned. You seemed obsessed, even for you."

"She's a marvelous plaything, but I'm sure I can find ways to occupy my … energies until we meet again." He cast a glance at the Fort, where a fetching brunette NCR sniper awaited him, bound and gagged in his tent. She would probably only last a few weeks at best, but not everything could be perfect.

"I'll head back to Vegas while you hold down the Fort," Lucius said, smiling at his pun. "We'll let you know when it's time."

"Vale, Lucius." The bearded man walked away. Vulpes sat down for a moment and tossed a rock into the churning water. Lucius had a point. He had become intensely entangled with the Courier, and it had clouded his judgment in Vegas. He saw things more clearly now. He would still have her, of course, possess her, make her cry and beg and shudder beneath him every night for the rest of her life. But he could wait for that. As he had told her, they had all the time in the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my very first story. I might follow up, but I haven't decided yet. Let me know if you're interested in more.


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